


Symbiosis

by penceyprat



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Art Hoe Dan Howell, Dedicated Ferret Owner Phil Lester, Friends to Lovers, Generally Quite Cute, M/M, Other Major Plot Points Include Dan's Curly Hair, Phil's Ferret Is Called Susan, Susan Is Also A Major Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4812287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penceyprat/pseuds/penceyprat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how a rainy day and a startled ferret can change everything. Dan's a sixteen year old self-confessed art hoe who spends a lot of time in the trees off to the side of house. Phil's a seventeen year old ferret enthusiast with insanely bright blue eyes who happens to take his ferret, Susan, there for a walk. Vaguely (well perhaps more than vaguely) homosexual chaos ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Already Such Trash For This Fuck My Life

He hadn't anticipated the rain, but appreciated it nonetheless, less so what it did to his hair, but summer was getting too hot and too dry, and rain drops upon leaves made for incredibly cool photographs and Dan was all about the art hoe aesthetic.

Of course, as luck would have it, he didn't have his camera with him that very moment, but still, he could appreciate the fact that at least when the rain was here fucking up his hair and turning into a curly mess that he wasn't quite so fond of, no one was around to see it.

Of course, that was what he thought, after all, no one really frequented the path coming down from the back of his road hidden between far too many trees - it was the kind of place you couldn't really happen upon accidentally or commuted down, seeing as it didn't really go anywhere, and truth be told, Dan only went down it to take aesthetically pleasing photographs, and a strong ninety eight percent of the time he'd spent there he'd spent alone.

But that changed as soon as he heard some sort of ungodly shriek, leaving his first thought to be 'oh god, someone's dying', and then in turn, 'oh god, I'm going to die'. Because truth be told, sixteen year old Dan Howell was just a little neurotic at times, and by times, well, most of the time... ninety nine percent of the time, or if not that, a strong ninety eight point five percent.

However, before Dan could quite process just what the fuck was going on, and in turn, just what the fuck he was supposed to do, another, louder shriek sounded followed by footsteps coming from behind him, and before he really knew what was happening, he hit the dirt path with a thump an a rather eloquently putting, "fucking tit balls," from his lips.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to run into you, I just- are you okay, I can-"

Dan rubbed his eyes, looking up to see a rather concerned looking boy, around his age with black hair and blue eyes, "yeah, I'm fine, don't worry, I'm just clumsy, I guess, sorry I-" It was only as Dan sat up that he finally pieced together just what had caused this rather unlikely chain of events, and in particular that one horrific screech. "Is that a ferret?" The boy laughed a little, looking down at the small white creature on the end of the leash in his hand. "It's either a ferret or a fucking severely deformed dog with a fucking screeching baby trapped inside it's mouth, I fucking swear to God that gave me a heart attack."

The boy met Dan's gaze, giggling a little, because truth be told, Dan did sound more than a little ridiculous, but it was cute, was as cute as someone in ferret related distress could be. "No, she'd be a really weird dog if she was one, but this is Susan, she's a striped white ferret, she's thirteen and a half months old, and I'm sorry she attacked you like that, she just gets very excited, I think she might not like the rain, you know? I don't know, you know ferret care would be so much easier if ferrets could talk, like wouldn't that be cool, like if all animals could talk, but like then I'm absolutely six hundred percent sure that all my friends would be animals and I'd have no social life."

"Uhh..." Dan trailed off, unsure as to just how seriously this boy could possibly take his ferret, before going fuck it and continuing regardless, "one question," the boy smiled at him, nodding a little, "why the fuck are you walking a ferret? It's not a dog-"

"Well, actually," he leaned down to stroke the ferret- Susan, and decided just to sit down, facing Dan, who hadn't quite gathered the emotional capacity to get back up again, "ferrets can be leash trained, and some like being able to explore the outdoors, you mean, you wouldn't like it if you were kept in a cage all your life, would you?"

"But I'm not a ferret," Dan continued, laughing a little, still not sure whether this boy was just taking the piss here or not, because seriously, who the fuck was this enthusiastic about ferrets? 

"Ferrets are people too!" He protested, looking up at Dan with a pair of insanely beautiful blue eyes: something Dan had been far too distracted by Susan to notice.

"Are they now?" Dan laughed a little more, leaning forward and glancing between Phil and Susan, "Jesus, you're for real, aren't you?"

"Of course I am..." He trailed off, looking a little offended, "if someone bumped into you with a dog would you be questioning their entire existence, no? No, you wouldn't, so why is a ferret any different?"

Dan paused for a moment, shrugging, "guess I've just never seen anyone hold a ferret before, never actually seen a ferret before, actually."

The boy's eyes lit up at that, widening as they met Dan's, "would you like to hold her? Now I promise she doesn't bite-"

"You're asking me if I want to hold you ferret?" Dan exclaimed, still not entirely able to believe the situation.

"Yes." He nodded, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and perhaps to him it was. Dan considered that for a moment.

"I don't even know your name." He continued, blushing a little, "I mean... I can't hold your ferret without knowing your name, that'd be impolite of me." He paused, taking in the boy's appearance once more, because weird ferret obsession or not, he was cute, and that was that. "I'm Dan."

"Phil," he smiled, picking Susan up and placing her in Dan's lap with very little warning.

"Fuck!" Dan exclaimed, struggling to hold the suddenly very confused ferret without somehow killing her or himself in the process. "If Susan somehow dies in my arms, I am not held responsible, I tell you now-"

Phil reached forward, moving Dan's hands slightly so Susan wasn't suffocating, leaving Dan with this horrible gay tingling feeling as Phil's hands brushed over his - a feeling he tried to ignore, but a feeling he of course failed in doing so. "Don't worry, ferrets can live up to ten years, although the average is eight, and the oldest ferret I've heard of was thirteen, and Susan's only thirteen months, so she's got a while to go, don't worry."

"I was talking about me accidentally killing her or something," Dan laughed a little, looking down at the ferret that he'd somehow found himself with in his arms, "but thanks for the ferret facts." He paused, stroking Susan gently, and finding that petting a ferret was a much less weird experience than he had anticipated, not that he'd really spent a great deal of his life anticipating the sensation of stroking a ferret. "How old are you, by the way? I mean, you told me how old Susan is, but, you?"

"I'm seventeen." Phil replied, "my mum said I couldn't get a ferret at sixteen, like she said they were pets for twelve year olds, but I saw this really cool video online of this ferret like doing a mini olympics, and it was so cool- they can run so fast, but I guess you know that now, since Susan kind of ran into you." Phil paused, realising that perhaps he maybe needed to calm the fuck down about ferrets, "how old are you?"

"I'm sixteen," Dan responded, nodding a little as he found himself petting Susan on the head.

"Not too old to get a ferret, you know?" Phil added, a genuine smile on his face.

"That's... that's good to know." Dan couldn't help himself laughing a little, "not sure I'm as much of a ferret person as you are, I mean, you obviously seem like a natural ferret handler, and I-"

"Oh no, she likes you, I can tell." Phil nodded enthusiastically, pointing to Susan and the way she was held rather pliantly in Dan's lap.

"Oh?" Dan raised his eyebrows, not at all sure what to make of this kind of conversation.

"She would have bitten you by now if she didn't like you-"

"What the fuck!" Dan exclaimed, his eyes widening considerably, "you told me she didn't bite- are you fucking kidding me, take your fucking ferret back, I would like to keep my fingers!" Dan exclaimed, thrusting Susan back towards Phil, who was vaguely amused by the entire situation.

"She only has a little mouth, she won't bite your fingers off, I promise you that." Phil looked down at Susan, stroking her a little, "see, that look in her eyes, she misses you-"

"Does she now?" Dan couldn't quite keep himself from laughing.

"Yeah, Susan has to finish her walk, but I think she- actually, I think we'd like for you to come with us." Phil looked at the sixteen year old: Dan's face in little more than disbelief as he attempted to process what had just been asked of him.

"I've never been invited on a ferret walk before." He admitted, truthfully too, watching as Phil got to his feet and doing the same.

"Well, you know what they say? There's a first time for everything." Phil continued, making sure Susan was held securely in the ferret harness attached to the leash.

Dan just stood there astounded for a few seconds, his cheeks a wonderful shade of pink as he found himself reassessing the absolute fuck out of his life, before realising that he did indeed have absolutely nothing better to do than help a cute guy walk his ferret, as weird and vaguely euphemistic that sounded.

"Well?" Phil asked, looking up at him: all wide eyes and an almost embarrassingly big smile.

"Well, I guess you're right." Dan ran a hand through his hair, "there is a first time for everything. Ferret walking included."

"That's what I thought," Phil said, face complete with a smile as the two began to make their way down the path, with Susan running along in front of them, but try as he might, Dan couldn't quite ever get used to the fact that the thing on the end of that leash was indeed a motherfucking ferret.

"So, do you come here often?" Phil asked, breaking the silence and chancing a glance across in the curly haired boy's direction.

"Not everyday, but pretty often." Dan explained, suddenly feeling at least a thousand times more self-conscious with those unbelievably blue eyes on him, "it's sort of calm and peaceful, if you know what I mean. I come out here to think sometimes, and sometimes to take photos, but I left my camera at home today, which sucks because I really like taking photos in the rain."

"You're a photographer?" Phil's eyes widened with a sudden, perhaps excess of interest. "That's amazing, I'd love to see your stuff- only if you want me to of course, some people are kind of self-conscious about their work, and that's okay, but I'd really love to. I also love the rain too - it's really quite calming, don't you think? Susan doesn't seem to think so though," he glanced down at his ferret with a somewhat disappointed look.

Dan found himself blushing, and turning his head slightly in order to avoid the rather direct nature of Phil's gaze, "I'm not really a photographer, I just like taking photos, and then drawing them too. I really like art, I mean, I'm not excessively brilliant at it, but I'm quite a creative person, I guess. I could show you something, if you want, don't get too excited though, it's nothing extraordinary-"

"Don't put yourself down!" Phil exclaimed, his tone suddenly growing rather serious, "you really shouldn't say that, I'm sure you're amazing."

"How can you be sure about it if you've never seen any of my artwork or photographs?" Dan asked, raising his eyebrows a little.

"I'm probably psychic." Phil added, causing Dan to glance across at him with a slightly widened gaze: unable to quite determine whether he was being serious or not. "What?" He asked, noticing the slight sense of amusement to Dan's expression, "one time when I was seven I had a dream that my cousin's goldfish died, and guess what? He did. Rest in peace, Dorothy-"

"Dorothy? Are you fucking serious?" Dan exclaimed, finding himself laughing again, "a goldfish, called Dorothy."

"Yes." Phil nodded, holding Dan's gaze, "don't disrespect the dead. Goldfish have feelings too. Also, you look like someone who would like the rain, and you do-"

"Actually," Dan raised his eyebrows a little, the corners of his lips twitching up into an awkward half grin: controlled solely by the voice at the back of his head telling him just how stupid it made him look. "I really don't like the rain. I just like taking photos in it. I, personally, am not a fan, sorry rain."

Phil pouted, appearing almost genuinely disappointed, which Dan couldn't help but feel a little guilty about, forgetting momentarily that the boy beside him was in fact, seventeen, and not seven. "I guess I'm not psychic then. But how you could possibly not like the rain? It's just water. I didn't expect you to side with Susan on this, it's two against one, it isn't fair."

"I reckon it's more one and a sixth against one, because I'm not exactly sure that a ferret counts as a whole person, but..." Dan trailed off, shrugging a little, "I mean, mainly it just fucks up my hair," Dan blushed as he suddenly felt Phil's eyes on the curled mess of hair upon his head.

"Your hair looks fine. I don't know what you're talking about." Phil looked a little perplexed by Dan's words; it was both odd, and cute... oddly cute, although Dan was trying his best not to focus on the latter of those two notions.

"I prefer it straight. This is how it is naturally, this big curly mess, but I like to straighten it, it just looks better, believe me, if you saw me with straight hair then you'd understand." Dan insisted, growing just a little less self-conscious of his appearance with time, because although Phil's gaze with consistently focused upon him, it made a point of not being intimidating in nature.

"I like it like that." Phil added, his tone genuine enough to leave Dan surprised in regards to the content of his words, "it looks cute. You should leave it like that."

"You think?" Dan raised his eyebrows to the extent that Phil suddenly found himself rather concerned for the younger boy's forehead. "Like seriously, you're not kidding me right now?"

"Of course I'm not." Phil furrowed his brow, almost as if the notion of him doing the aforementioned was little more than preposterous, which, in his mind, it was.

"Oh..." Dan trailed off, his cheeks burning up, finding himself entirely unsure as to what to think, do, or say in regards to that. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome." Phil smiled, turning away from Dan in order to glance at Susan, who was doing just great, trotting along down the path just a few metres in front of them. "I think I might walk Susan here more often," he added, his words spoken as if they were little more than a verbalised thought from the back of his mind.

"Hmm?" Dan's eyes widening, glancing across at Phil, finding himself perhaps too excited in regards to the notion of seeing Phil, and of course, Susan, again.

"Yeah, I mean, it's quite quiet so Susan doesn't get startled, that's why she was running so fast - she didn't like the cars out on the road, I think they really freaked her out, and that's understandable, because a ferret is tiny compared to a car, and it must be really scary for her, especially since she doesn't know what a car is, don't you think?"

Dan found himself nodding, "yeah, I mean, I go here because it's quiet too."

"Also, it's pretty." Phil continued, gesturing vaguely at the trees around them. "And if we see you again, I'll make sure we don't crash into you. Promise."

Dan smiled, nodding, "yeah, I mean, I might have to make an effort to come out here more often now, I mean, you don't get to see a leash trained ferret everyday, do you?- Well, you do, but... you know what I mean..."

"You might even have to bring your camera next time, I mean, it's not everyday you have a ferret to take photos of." Phil added, his face overtaken by a grin.

"Are you suggesting that I take photos of Susan?" Dan asked, a little taken aback by the idea, but coming from the guy with a ferret on a leash, it did actually seem relatively normal.

"I think, secretly, she's always wanted to be a model." Phil continued, nodding to himself, and glancing down at Susan as if she somehow might have some form of facial response to his words.

"Right..." Dan's eyes widened, laughing a little.

"Don't crush her dreams, Dan, I can tell you for certain she wouldn't laugh at whatever you wanted to do." And Dan didn't even doubt that for a second, because if anyone knew everything about Susan, it was Phil.

"I think that might have something to do with the fact that she's a ferret and she can't speak English." Dan added, raising his eyebrows a little.

"How do you know that, though? If you were a magic English speaking ferret wouldn't you keep it a secret? Because if you didn't you get experimented on and taken away by the government and the F.B.I. and stuff and that doesn't sound very fun." Phil looked down at Susan with an odd degree of concern.

"But would Susan not know how trustworthy you are, because I mean, I have meant well any ferret owners before, but I can't imagine anyone as dedicated as you are."

"Thank you, but no," Phil shook his head at Susan, "she's quite cheeky, she wouldn't let me know, I think she'd just listen in on all my stupid conversations unknowingly, like right now, right now she probably thinks we're idiots."

"And of course, your main concern in life is what your ferret may or may not think of you?" Dan asked, his eyes widened a little.

"Of course." Phil nodded, speaking as if it was blindingly obvious.

"I don't think Susan would be mean about you, though," Dan continued, somehow finding himself talking about Susan in much the same way Phil did.

"Why not?"

"You're just so nice. I don't think anyone could be mean to you." 

"Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work like that." Phil let out a sigh, glancing up at Dan, before forcing his expression into a smile, "it's okay, though, because I have Susan and I have you."

Dan's eyes widened at that, before finding himself nodding, perhaps even subconsciously.

"We have to go, but I hope to see you here some time soon," and with that, Phil and Susan made their way down the path that turned out of the streets and back onto the streets, leaving Dan stood there in silence for a good few minutes, struggling to process what had just happened and as to whether Phil was even real.

But he knew he couldn't be making this shit up, and somehow that was the best kind of realisation he'd known.

-


	2. Just Dress Up As A Tortoise To Impress That Boy You Like

Dan was perhaps spectacularly good at generally fucking things up. So much so that he'd even list it as one of his many talents, if of course he ever got to a stage in life in which he was required to do so, but from where he stood right now, he had great difficultly in visualising or even accepting the reality of such a stage.

Adulthood, life outside of school, life outside of homework and classes and little balls of paper thrown at the back of his head seemed like some sort of weird dream, some sort of weird fairy story, like when everyone said that Marilyn Manson got his ribs removed so that he could suck his own dick - everyone had believed in it, but that didn't mean that it was true.

What Dan didn't believe to be true was of course the freedom of it, well the apparent freedom, and individuality you got with adulthood and your own life, but truth be told, he couldn't see that for him at all; he could only see school, and school: a teenager forever, as if the moment he turned eighteen the clock would be step back and he'd see himself starting primary school again.

Of course, he knew that it most likely wouldn't really happen as such - either of the two ways he reckoned it might, and that all that would come of his eighteenth birthday was the ability to buy alcohol and cigarettes - neither of which he really cared for, and of course, the ability to move out and fail spectacularly in caring for himself.

And he doubted that living alone would bring him more freedoms than that of walking around all day in his underwear, but then still, he'd have windows and neighbours, and a million other things to worry about, and he was even unlikely to have the time to stay in his underwear all day, or perhaps he _would_ , and he didn't quite know which was worse. He'd fuck it all up anyway.

But back to the present day, sixteen year old Dan Howell found himself stood outside the art block at school, looking at his maths homework and indeed the bottle of water he'd spilled all over it.

He sighed aloud, quickly coming to accept the fact that there was little hope left in this world for the A5 sheet of algebra that he had slaved over for a grand total of twenty six minutes last night at approximately half past eleven.

He pulled the sheet out of his bag, dumping his bottle of water in the trash on the grounds he didn't trust it anymore, and cursed aloud before throwing his maths homework away with a disgruntled sigh.

With his mind racing with a million thoughts to the chorus of 'dear god, why me?', he made his way over to a bench just a few metres away from the trashcan where his homework and bottle of water now lay. He considered the logistics of holding a funeral for his maths homework as he surveyed his bag for anymore water damage, and found himself more than just a little relieved to find that nothing besides some letter they'd handed out seven months ago had gotten more than a little damp.

He grabbed the letter, screwing it up into a ball and aiming it towards the trash can, and of course missing spectacularly, and relishing in that fact, before feeling sorry for the planet and nature and getting up to pick it back up again and placing it properly into the bin.

And with the knowledge that he'd perhaps saved a bird or something from a paper induced death, he tried to smile as he pulled out his cellphone and texted his friend Chris in all caps, demanding that he came over here right now on pain of death.

Dan's friend Chris, was Chris Kendall, dubbed weirdest fucking kid in the school after he'd come to school dressed as a turtle on the last non-uniform day. And Chris hadn't just slapped some green painted cardboard shell on his back, he'd gone all out: Dan had helped him make the shell out of plaster of paris, and he'd even painted his skin to mimic that of a tortoise, again, with Dan's help, and he'd walked around all day casually munching lettuce - this, Dan _hadn't_ helped with, and all because some kid called PJ in Chris' drama class had told him about how he'd done some charity thing to raise money for the endangered giant tortoises.

Dan wondered just _why_ he and Chris had come to be friends, but of course, the answer was in the simplicity of the fact that when Chris had asked Dan to help him with the aforementioned tortoise costume, Dan had agreed with very little hesitance.

PJ had appreciated the costume, though, so it was all worth it, at least in Chris' mind. Dan highly suspected that Chris had somewhat of a crush on PJ, but Chris was indeed more than hesitant to admit any of the sort, and well, Dan couldn't really do much about that besides offer him support and encouragement the next time he attempted to dress up as an endangered animal in order to gain some sort of approval from PJ Liguori.

Chris made his way over to where Dan was sat, with his school bag on his lap and a rather sullen expression upon his face, in no less than two and half minutes, looking vaguely concerned due to the nature of the message. "Okay, so who died?" He asked, sitting down beside Dan, and nearly giving the younger of the two (Dan), a heart attack as he did so.

"Nearly me, Jesus _Christ_ , don't sneak up on people like that!" Dan exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his arms and glaring at Chris, but only half-heartedly.

"I just went and sat down on a bench, it's your fault for being half asleep, _Daniel_." Chris smiled a little, reaching across and ruffling Dan's hair like he was some weird aunt Dan hadn't seen in three years and not his best friend.

Dan rolled his eyes, fixing his hair, before glancing back down into his bag with a sigh, and continuing with, "maths homework. That's what died. Mine. Can I copy yours?"

Chris shook his head in disbelief, but produced a sheet from his bag without anything more to say.

Dan grabbed the sheet and began to copy down the answers into the back of his maths book, biting down on his bottom lip in concentration.

"So..." Chris let out a sigh, glancing at Dan as he scribbled down the answers at what Chris would consider an inhuman speed, but then again, Dan was the kind of person that could probably run a marathon as long as there was the threat of immediate death or severe embarrassment chasing him, and of that, Chris found himself jealous, because he was definitely the kind of guy who'd give up after a good six minutes and just embrace death. "I had drama today."

Dan raised his eyebrows, "I know. You have drama when I have art. I just had art."

" _Yes_." Chris nodded, already well aware that Dan knew more about his life than he did, which wasn't really due to anything weird, but just to the fact that Dan actually had some self discipline and organisation, where Chris had the ability to make terrible puns and come up with a terribly sarcastic answer to everything. "Well, you know who's in my drama class-"

"PJ." Dan answered without even looking up from the maths homework he found himself rather frantically copying into his book.

" _Yes_." Chris continued, perhaps concluding that frantic neurotic homework copying Dan wasn't the best Dan to strike up a conversation with, but truth be told, he felt kind of awkward sat on that bench in silence, so he continued regardless, "anyway, so he talked to me today. He kind of _had_ to talk to me because we were doing a play, but still, it counts, he talked to me - remember that, Dan. PJ Liguori talked to me, it was _lovely_ , I went all flushed in my cheeks and I got a bit sweaty but don't tell him I said that-"

"Chris, I've never had a conversation with PJ in my _life_ , I'm not going to go up to him and tell him that you got sweaty when you spoke to him earlier today." Dan looked up from the maths homework at that, letting out a sigh, "I think you might be overthinking everything, you know? Just go up to him and tell him you like him."

"But I _don't_ like him. I mean I _like_ him, but not in a _gay_ way, I mean look at me, Chris Heterosexual Kendall, I even kissed a girl once when I was twelve, you know?" Dan wasn't quite sure as to just what the fuck Chris was saying, but then again, neither was Chris.

"Well..." Dan let out a sigh, "tell him you'd like to hang out with him in a friend way then, whatever. Get his phone number, maybe?"

"But that's a bit gay, don't you think?" Chris asked, looking far, _far_ too into this.

"And getting flustered over talking to him isn't. I have your phone number. That isn't a gay thing." Dan finished the last few questions and handed the sheet back to Chris. "PJ seems like a nice guy anyway, he wouldn't be weirded out, I mean, he still talked to you after you dressed up as tortoise, so I'd say he likes you better than seventy percent of our year."

"Mmm..." Chris sat there, twirling his hair around his finger, "he is nice, isn't he? He's got nice eyes."

"So, yeah, he's not gonna-"

"Nice smile as well. Got nice hair too, I really like it, curly hair. Shame you straighten yours, curly hair is cute."

Dan just sat there for a moment, suddenly reminded of Phil and his ferret, Susan, and in that moment he couldn't care less that Chris wouldn't stop going on about PJ as if he was the second coming of Jesus Christ himself.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Dan let out a sigh, fixing his hair as he spoke.

"Who's everyone?" Chris asked, finally shutting up about PJ in order to look far too much into everything Dan was saying.

"I just meant... I mean, I've heard people say it to me a lot recently." Dan found his cheeks burning up despite his every effort to keep his calm.

"Hmm..." Chris let out a sigh, leaning back against the back of the bench. "You need help with a tortoise costume, Dan?" He added, a smirk upon his lips.

"What does that mean?" Dan's cheeks flushed red as he let out an awkward laugh/cough/splutter.

"Exactly." Chris smiled, laughing as he sat up a little.

"Exactly what?" Dan continued, his expression continuing to contort further into one of confusion.

"Exactly what you're thinking." Chris finished, getting up as the bell rang out, "come on, we've got maths now, haven't we, Howell?"

"Yeah." Dan nodded, biting his lip.

"I swear to god, you know _everything_. It's wonderful. I don't have to think about anything anymore." He burst into laughter, watching as Dan grabbed his bag, before they made their way over to maths, continuing their vague attempt at conversation as they went.

"What _do_ you think about then?" Dan found himself asking, "or do you just sit there, thinking about _nothing_?" He found himself rendered uncomfortable by such a notion, admitting, if only to himself, that it did indeed terrify him just a little.

"Giant tortoises, and how endangered they are. And how we _must_ protect them!" Chris exclaimed, his words over animated, and perhaps a little ridiculous in nature, well, to Dan, at least, and it wasn't like he _didn't_ care about endangered tortoises, just not as much as Chris liked to make out that he did.

"Right." Dan nodded, only then following Chris' gaze, having noticed that he wasn't quite looking at him anymore, and there, just a few metres behind them stood PJ Liguori. Dan gave up all hope on being discreet, because well, Chris had already done that for sure, and turned and looked, to see PJ looking right past him, waving.

Dan's eyes widened at that, turning back to Chris, but to see him turning back too, and just like that, the both of them were stood, staring at some girl with a streak of blue in her hair, stood at the end of the corridor. Dan thought perhaps that she was called Francesca. He wasn't sure, though, and he didn't get the chance to ponder it, before he felt Chris tugging on his arm and pulling him down the corridor.

-

Dan thought a lot.

In general, really.

But more so, in particular, that day, in the hours that followed, and especially the first moment he really got to himself, to his own head, his own thoughts, and the quiet that walking the long way home through the woods got him.

His legs were nowhere near as thankful as his mind was, however.

But Dan did this enough to learn to live with it.

He had one headphone in, listening to The Smiths, which he'd dubbed his favourite band for the sake of having one to mind whenever anyone asked him for one, which had happened far more than he'd care for with all the 'icebreaker' activities the teachers had insisted that they partake in at the start of term.

Dan would probably rather stand on a glacier and have the 'ice break' than stand up and tell his English class that his name was Dan and that his favourite colour was black and his favourite band was The Smiths, for the _seven thousandth_ time.

His iPod began to play 'Bigmouth Strikes Again' as he made it into the woods, his mind racing with thoughts - the kind of thoughts that compelled you to think them, even though you really _know_ you shouldn't.

He tried his best to keep to the path as his head began to spin with thoughts of Chris, with thoughts of PJ, and the girl who may or may not be called Francesca, and with the thoughts of way the Chris had grabbed his arm and nod said much for the next hour. He thought about the things he knew Chris didn't want him to think about - the things that evidently weren't his business, venturing into the world outside of his own head and knowing he'd regret it.

And he did.

Just as his thoughts got the better of him, and just as they sent him walking straight into a tree.

And Dan _had_ to admit this certainly wasn't one of his better moments.

Not that his better moments really came in abundance as it was.

And as he sat on the floor, curled up, clutching his head, and trying his best not to cry, because okay, not only was the act of walking into a tree rather embarrassing, but it hurt one hell of a lot, he came to take note of the footsteps beside him, and the voice and the hand on his shoulder that followed.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Dan's head snapped up, just like that.

His eyes meeting the ones of a boy stood beside him. A boy. A boy all too familiar.

"I just walked into a tree." Dan announced, laughing a little.

"I saw that." The boy smiled, sitting down beside Dan. "I'm sorry you keep getting injured every time we meet, it isn't intentional, I promise."

Dan smiled a little at that. "I really don't think you could have controlled me walking into a tree, if you tried, Phil. It takes a lot of _skill_ to me as much of a clumsy piece of shit as I am."

Phil laughed, "last time was Susan's fault, though. And she _is_ sorry." He continued, sitting up a little.

"Good to know." Dan nodded, looking Phil over, raising his eyebrows a little at the choice of shirt: entirely too colourful for Dan's liking, but seemed to work well enough on Phil, in fact, everything seemed to work well on Phil. "Nice shirt." He noted.

Phil laughed a little, "it's my friend's." He began to explain, "well, long story short, I ended up pouring yoghurt down myself at college today. It wasn't the best of experiences."

"Oh." Dan nodded. _College_. He'd known Phil was older than him, but it still left him feeling rather awkward and out of place, sat there in his school uniform. "I spilt water all over my maths homework today," he found himself saying, and for a reason he couldn't quite place, because he was sure that Phil wouldn't give a fuck about his maths homework, but he _did_. "I ended up copying my friend Chris' though, so it was okay."

"He's a good friend for letting you copy him." Phil nodded, smiling as he got his feet, watching as Dan did the same. "Unless he's horrible to you, and in that case forget I said anything-"

"No, don't worry, he's nice. He's _Chris_." Dan said as if his name might convey the entirety of his character with ease. "I'm a bit worried about him though." Dan found himself saying, "but I can't tell him that I'm worried, because, well, he'll just... he's not the kind of person who'd appreciate that."

"Why are you worried about him?" Phil asked, looking at Dan as if he actually cared for every word he had to say, and he _did_.

"He has this crush on this guy called PJ, well, he insists he doesn't, but he's pretty obvious about it, and well... it might not mean anything at all, but I think this guy might have a girlfriend or something and I just don't want him to get hurt." Dan admitted, looking up at Phil sheepishly.

"Could he not just trying talking to PJ?"

"Oh trust me, I've suggested that, but it seems like anything is easier for him than actually going about things the simple, straight forward way."

Phil laughed a little, "it's different though, isn't it? When you like someone. You just really _can't_ just tell them, because they're the whole world to you, and you're just so terrified as to what would happen if the world stops spinning."

Dan paused for a moment, nodding, not that he'd really had any form of meaningful crush on someone. "I guess. I don't know first hand, but I guess."

Phil smiled, "I hope you find someone, Dan, I really do." He pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the time, "I've really got to get home, you could walk as far as you go with me, if you want?"

Dan nodded; he had to get home too. "I'd like that."

And just like that he had more things to think about than Chris.

-


	3. Phil Lester's Smile > The Actual Sun

Phil had a relatively normal life: everyday he woke up, instantly regretted ever doing so, fed his ferret, browsed the internet mindlessly for a while, got dressed, went to college, had a relatively mediocre time, came back home, fed his ferret, got undressed, and went to sleep.

And in that relatively normal life, he had most certainly not accounted for time he might spent thinking about a certain brown haired boy by the name of Dan, who he'd encountered only twice, but still felt almost painfully important: as if Dan was just going to slip past him if he didn't hold on tight, but Phil found himself stuck with no idea as to why and how he should be holding on.

Because he didn't have Dan's phone number, he didn't even know his last name - he simply knew that he was called Dan and he liked art and photography, and that he was unreasonably self-conscious about his naturally curly hair. He also knew what school Dan went to, but it really wasn't like he was going to stand outside the gate and ambush him or anything, because doing so would seriously run the risk of him looking like a pedophile.

Not thatPhil could technically be a pedophile, being seventeen, after all, and not that a one year age difference between the two of them really counted for much. And not that they were even romantically interested in each other, because they weren't, or at least, that's what Phil felt insistent upon telling himself.

They were just friends, although Phil didn't quite know whether he could really count someone he'd met twice as his friend, but they really had just _clicked_ , and Phil desperately wanted to get to know Dan better, regardless of how pathetic it made him feel.

It wasn't like Phil didn't already have friends, anyway - he had his college friends: Adam and Sophia, who he was in fact relatively close to and actually liked, and there was no logical reason for him to care so much about this random guy he'd met literally _twice_ , but he did, and the reality of it all was something he struggled to stomach.

And something he struggled harder with was not thinking about Dan excessively, because he'd deemed that a little creepy and reckoned that Dan wouldn't exactly appreciate it if he found out - not that he would, likely, but still, Phil considered himself to be a good person, but it was evident that he was perhaps not as _good_ at being a good person as he wanted to be.

Phil had this coursework to finish - coursework that was due in two days time, coursework that had been set two weeks prior, coursework he was struggling to start. And he knew just how much this was all his own fault, but still, he sat there on his bedroom floor with his unfinished coursework laid out messily in front of him and his laptop to his side: playing some Vampire Weekend, well it had been Vampire Weekend, but now Phil found himself sat there listening to an advert for Toyota.

By the time he'd reached the next ad break in his music listening experience, he found himself having written only three more words and indeed giving up entirely: putting down his apparent uselessness to a lack of inspiration, and with that gave himself an excuse to get up and do something else, putting off his media coursework until tomorrow - the day before it was due, and yes, Phil knew how much of a bad idea that was, and _yes_ , current Phil knew how much future Phil would hate himself for it, but still, in his defense, you were supposed to have regular breaks when working, weren't you? Phil doubted that it counted when you hadn't actually done any work, though.

He shut his laptop lid and got up from the floor, well, _attempted_ to, as in the process of attempting to do so, he discovered that one of his legs had died, along with his motivation, as he'd tried to do his coursework, and nearly fell over again, which was, to put it crudely, fucking wonderful.

He did manage to make it downstairs safely, however, which was something he did in fact find himself genuinely surprised by, which really wasn't a good thing, but neither was continuing to neglect your coursework, so in the schemes of things it hardly mattered at all.

"So you _are_ alive." His mum made a vaguely amused comment as Phil made his way into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and only vaguely grunting in her direction. "Typical teenage boy," she rolled her eyes, turning away from the cup of tea she was making, and looked Phil up and down with a degree of skepticism, "how's the coursework?"

"Good," Phil mumbled, shrugging a little and avoiding eye contact, because it didn't count as lying if you didn't look them in face, as some kid called Michael had once told him when he was six. "Fine," he found himself reiterating, opening the fridge and groaning loudly at the apparent lack of anything 'edible'.

"You sure?" His mother didn't believe him for a second, but still, Phil knew she wasn't going to directly call him out upon it, but instead let him face the consequences when come tomorrow, he'd undoubtedly hate himself for putting it off even further.

"We've got nothing to eat." Phil complained, whilst staring at a fridge full of food, well a fridge full of things like low fat Greek yoghurt, asparagus, and mustard.

"We've got a whole fridge full." Mrs Lester gestured towards the food Phil was in fact _staring_ at as he complained about the lack of anything to eat. "We have an _abundance_ of food, in fact, and I blame those two for one deals, because they seem like wonderful ideas at the time, but then I get home and I find myself thinking just what we can possibly do with two whole chickens."

"Eat them?" Phil suggested, wondering just how he'd gone to giving his mother culinary advice, but regardless, it was certainly better than actually doing his coursework.

"If you want to roast a whole chicken, go ahead, Phil." She rolled her eyes, pouring milk into her tea and stirring it a little.

"Do we not have _anything_ I could eat?" He asked, his voice sounding desperate and embarrassingly so.

"Phil, we have-"

"We have nothing I _want_ to eat." Phil corrected his mother, gaining an 'I'm disappointed in you' gaze from her as he did so.

"Well, if you're not satisfied with what I've bought for us, then you can go out and get it yourself."

Phil let out a groan, about to protest and tell her exactly as to how much of a horrible idea that was, but of course, then it struck him - if he was outside, then he definitely had a solid excuse _not_ to do his coursework, and anyway, fresh air was good for you, wasn't it?

-

Dan often found himself regretting going outside, and this instance was no different whatsoever, however had seriously needed to get his photography done, as his art project was actually due within the next twenty four hours, and he would rather not fail his GCSEs, believe it or not, but still, he took great care in ensuring that everyone around him knew from the over exaggerated scowl upon his face that he was most absolutely not having a great time outside.

Fuck, at least it wasn't raining, because Dan's hair looked nice today - he had that going for him, if only that, it was something, wasn't it?

His photography, a study in nature, however wasn't going so well. It was almost as if this particular area of the woods had taken an immediate dislike to his existence and was downright refusing to co-operate with him, which was something Dan found himself taking an embarrassingly lengthy amount of time in order to convince himself out of thinking.

Dan was perhaps less than rational when he was stressed, not that taking some photos was particularly stressful, it was just the matter of getting them good enough, _perfect_ , even, not that Dan really believed so much in perfection, as at least he'd never felt that he'd obtained such a thing.

But he was making progress, and not just in his soul searching pretentious quest for perfection, but in his photography, because the last few shots looked pretty decent, and well that had to do, didn't it? Considering the ever close deadline of the project, especially. Dan knew he had to manage his time better if he was going to be so finicky about everything, but he knew that just as much as he knew that the day that he learned to manage his time was the day that Chris admitted his feelings for PJ.

Nothing much had come of this Francesca girl, who PJ had indeed just _waved_ at, but it was a particularly heartfelt, a _deep_ wave, so to speak. But Dan reckoned if there was something going on between the two of them, and considering the nature of the school and the way gossip spread, he would have heard something, and Chris may have committed mass genocide by now, all while dressed as a tortoise, of course.

Perhaps she was just a friend, just like Chris would stay if he never got the balls to say anything.

Dan really didn't know as to how Chris' rather pathetic lovelife had become so much of his concern as of recent, because it didn't involve him in the slightest and he really wasn't the type to get invested in other people's business for the hell of it, but he couldn't quite get Chris' little dilemma out of his head.

It served a perfect distraction to the crippling inadequacy he felt his photography radiated, though, and if he could put off, or maybe even ignore that, then that had to be good news, didn't it? Because honestly, Dan just wanted to be able to say that he'd finished this, and preferably without it taking several hours.

He let out a sigh, glancing through the photos on his camera, of course, only to have a heart attack as he found his thoughts interrupted by the crunching of footsteps in what had been the silence and solitude that the forest had given him, which was precisely why he'd chosen to take his photos there, as opposed to out on the street or something, because this was hardly a social hotspot, and Dan was also cursed with the horror of not being able to focus on anything when people were talking to him.

" _Hey_!" He jumped a little, looking up, and finding himself fixated in the direction of the footsteps, and face to face with an all too familiar figure, and fuck, this seemed to be almost _cliché_ now: a thought that had Dan somewhat sick.

"Phil?" Dan called out, his eyes widening a little, and taking this as a sign from God to give up on his 'photography' and go and socialise with Phil, because of course, human interaction was essential and it really wasn't like it was some Dan encountered in abundance.

"Nice camera!" Phil noted as Dan approached him, glancing down at the camera around Dan's neck, "are you doing some photography?"

"Well, I'd like to say I am," Dan trailed off, blushing a little, "but it's turning out pretty crap, so I've accomplished a whole lot more swearing than I have photography."

"Awh, no, I'm sure it's great," Phil insisted, his face softening a little, "I'm not an expert on photography or whatever, but still, I have eyes, I mean, I'm pretty blind actually - I need glasses, but I'm wearing contacts, so I can still see, so I can have an opinion."

Dan laughed a little at that, "I was never going to stop you from having an opinion," he assured him.

"That's good because I haven't even seen your photos and I _know_ they're great." Phil was perhaps over confident in Dan's ability, but Dan reckoned he had little choice but to take it as a compliment, after all, Phil meant well, didn't he?

"What's with the Tesco bag?" Dan asked, sneakily changing the subject as he gestured to the plastic bag in Phil's hand.

"Oh!" Phil exclaimed, glancing down at the plastic carrier bag, "well we didn't have any food in, I mean, nice food, so I decided the perfect way to avoid doing my coursework would be to go out and get some. I mean, you need breaks when studying, don't you?"

Dan laughed at that, nodding enthusiastically, "of course you do!" He grinned a little, "you're on the right track, Phil, don't worry."

"I mean, it's nice weather as well, I just _had_ to go outside, and I mean, you can get inspiration from the trees and nature, and people you bump into, like you." Phil smiled a little, his tone growing quieter.

"I'm really glad it's not raining," Dan admitted, "the only good thing about today is my hair."

"You know I prefer it curly-"

"And you _know_ you're wrong." Dan rolled his eyes, instinctively reaching up and touching his hair, "it's like you, you wear glasses instead of contacts for a reason-"

"Contacts are just easier, that's the main reason, also I'm really good at losing my glasses. I imagine straightening your hair everyday isn't easier-"

"Phil, stop talking because you have a point and I don't want to hear it." Dan exclaimed, gaining laughter from Phil where he certainly hadn't expected it.

"You're cute," Phil said, seemingly out of nowhere, leaving Dan a little dead inside.

"I _am?_ " He exclaimed.

"Yeah, now come on, you should show me these photos, and you can prove me right in thinking that they're amazing."

-

Dan shrugged a little, blushing, hating how he was always so self conscious about his work, about anything and everything that might ever matter, but truth be told, he just couldn't help himself. The practice was wired harder into his brain that the English language, and Dan was perhaps anything but optimistic.

Phil took note of Dan's change in demeanor, sighing a little, and pulling a small, reassuring smile onto his lips, "you don't have to, of course, I'm just curious."

"I'd rather show you when I'm done, you know, when I've had the chance to make sure they're perfect." Dan explained, blushing a little, hating every single inadequacy about himself in that moment.

"They don't have to be perfect." Phil smiled up at him, "but whatever you're comfortable with, I mean, there's nothing saying you have to show me at all, I just... I'd like to see, you know?"

Dan nodded, "it's okay. I will." And in the very moment that he made that promise, he found himself regretting it.

"Do you want me to go, so you can have some space to finish?" Phil asked after a moment of silence passed.

Dan shook his head before he had even really processed what Phil had said; he'd simply heard the word 'go' and an instant negative response had been sparked in his brain. "No..." he sighed, wondering just what to say, what he even could say, as opposed to what he was 'supposed' to say.

"This is an excellent excuse to keep me away from my coursework, and I like spending time with you, so, I'm more than happy to stay," Phil announced, meeting Dan's face with an unfairly beautiful smile, like fuck, the sun could go the fuck home, because Phil's smile seemed to be lighting up the whole world, at least for Dan anyway.

Dan smiled a little in response, watching as Phil sat down a couple of metres away from him, watching as he turned his camera back on.

"You know, I don't know an awful lot about you, Dan," he commented, opening the Tesco bag and starting a pack of biscuits. "I don't even know your last name, for a start, which is kind of ridiculous, seeing as we're friends, and we are friends, aren't we?"

"Of course we are." Dan nodded, looking up and smiling a little as he noticed the way Phil was all so casually munching on the biscuits. "It's Howell, by the way. Dan Howell."

"Phil Lester." Phil added, smiling awkwardly as he did so, because this was their first proper introduction but they already knew each other in a weird, sort of unplaceable way. "And I'm seventeen, and you're sixteen right?"

"Yeah," Dan nodded, finding himself just a little distracted, but talking to Phil was perhaps the only thing he actually found himself wanting to do. "I'm in year eleven," he added, "so I think you're only a year older than me, so it's not weird-"

"Why would it be weird?" Phil asked: his face so soft and oddly innocent, despite him being the older of the two, and by no means stupid, or even particularly childish.

Dan blushed again, resorting to a shrug in the place of a verbal response.

"It's not like you're twelve or something." Phil continued, laughing a little, "we're practically the same age, you know?"

" _Yeah.._." Dan trailed off, "but you're in college and I'm in school."

"And what difference does that really make?" Phil asked, genuinely a little confused, "I'm not that old, Dan," he played it off with a laugh, watching as Dan's face mirrored his.

"I just over think things sometimes." Dan admitted, biting his lip. "I always assume the worst."

"That must be horrible," Phil's voice filled with a genuine kind of sympathy that Dan found himself perhaps depressingly unfamiliar with. "But trust me, Dan, I only think the best of you. I'd like to get to know you more. Maybe we should arrange to meet one day, you know, when we're both not just using one another as an excuse to procrastinate and not do homework."

"Yeah," Dan nodded, laughing a little as he glanced down at his camera. "I can't concentrate with people around. I just don't want you to go, because I really want to see you again, you know?"

"Hey, you will." Phil exclaimed, getting up, "we could meet up at the weekend? Add me on facebook and we could talk about it, but I think you should get these photos done. I don't want you to fail."

"Yeah," Dan had to admit that he was right, "I will."

"You could even send me some of those photos, if you want-" Phil cringed, knowing how that sentence sounded out of context.

"Or maybe I'll just show you them at the weekend, then you actually have an incentive to hang out with me again."

"Oh, _Dan_ , you know I don't need an incentive."

And Dan did know that, the conscious part of his brain did at least, but there was this great chunk of his existence that was utterly adamant in not believing a word.

-


	4. Dan Is An Emotional Wreck And It's Relatable AF

Dan was sprawled out across his bed in a particularly unflattering position: on his stomach, with the duvet half wrapped around his half clothed body. Half clothed referring to last night's jeans with a casual food related stain on them in at least two places, and a shirt that was now only sort of on his body. 

He looked a mess, he was a mess, but seriously, it was five thirty six am, what else could seriously be expected of him?

Before him, was his laptop: white screen light illuminating the otherwise pitch black nature of his bedroom, because Dan was, of course, too fucking goth to open the curtains, like seriously, sunlight, who did the fucking sun think it was?

He swore to god that he'd fight the fucking sun one day.

In hindsight, maybe not.

But still, the ambition was what counted, surely, even at half five in the morning, with no sleep as he lay in celebration of fucking finally getting his photography done, but as a result, finding himself far too fucking caffeinated to possibly even consider sleep as an option, even at five thirty in the morning, also known as a time only for people without common sense and those fucking annoying birds that insisted upon declaring to the whole world that they were indeed awake by means of bird song.

Dan had resulted to shoving his headphones in his ears in order to counteract this - not that he hated bird song, or nature in general, or didn't agree that it was, to some degree, beautiful, but it was now, as he lay there irritated, sleep deprived, and yet still buzzing from something like eight cups of coffee, that he knew that perhaps the last thing he needed in literally the whole fucking world was the sounds of birds fucking tweeting at each other.

Instead, he brought up his spotify and put a playlist he'd entitled 'sleep' on shuffle, and turning the volume down as much as he could so that he could still sort of vaguely hear it, but not so much that the sounds of, Morrissey, which was what shuffle had brought up, because Dan was of course a massive slut for the Smiths, and less of a slut in general due to the fact that he was kind of a massive fucking nerdy virgin with very few friends, drowned out the sounds of motherfucking nature outside.

Dan lay there in an odd sort of contemplative, what the fuck am I doing with my life silence for a good two minutes as he listened to his shitty pretentious morisseyfucker69 playlist- well, it wasn't actually as such, but honestly, it might as well be, because Dan was so up Morrissey's ass that he may as well be his prostate.

The realisation that you could indeed be the prostate of Steven Patrick Morrissey, was not one Dan had expected to come across at five in the morning, but one that he found himself not particularly questioning.

He wasn't even sure what he was intending to do as he scrolled vaguely through various sites, but he was pretty certain that there was no hope of him getting back to sleep now, and that was a realisation he found himself embracing with significantly less vigour, but, ah fuck it, it was nearing quarter to six in the morning and Dan lay there, with no sleep, and more caffeine than he'd care to admit, to his name.

It was then that he found himself growing so desperate that he resorted to seeking distraction from facebook, like seriously, facebook, of all things. He barely even knew why he had one. It was just, well, everyone else has a facebook, so he might as well have one. Much like, oh, everyone else has a shit emo kid fringe, so he might as well have one, and, oh, everyone else is much fucking cooler than him, so he might as well admit defeat to the world and sit around like an emotional wreck in the early hours of the morning.

However, as he found himself mindless checking how many likes his dumb fucking facebook profile picture had, (about six, two of which were from his grandparents, which didn't count, so four, one from Chris, and three from people with seriously nothing better to do, but seriously what was he doing, fretting over how many likes his fucking profile picture had? He thought himself better than this, at least, seriously?) that he came to remember perhaps the only reason he ever should have cared about facebook in his whole entire life.

Phil Lester.

Phil Lester, the older boy with the striking blue eyes, and the ferret called Susan, who cared, and kept crossing his path far too often for it to seriously be coincidence, or was Dan just seriously overthinking tghings, and was quarter to six maybe not to the best time to make life impacting decisions, such as, sending someone you just met a friend request and then messaging them for the first time.

Oh god.

The first message.

The first message was somehow everything: the moment Dan's whole life had been leading up to, or at least, it felt as such in that moment, as Dan lay there, obsessing over everything, to every unnecessary extent, just as he did best.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

That probably wasn't a good first message.

Perhaps just a 'hey'? But that was too simple, that was like he didn't care, that was like Phil didn't matter, that was like they didn't matter, that was like Phil was just another mindless, meaningless facebook friend, amongst Dan's two hundred or so, of which the only people he actually spoke to were Chris, and that guy called Tom in his maths class, because Dan could never stay awake long enough in maths to get even a basic understanding of what the fuck was going on, and Tom was nice enough, he was just generally a nice guy - someone Dan would perhaps like to hang around with, but Dan wasn't nice, and he wasn't confident, and he didn't have any common interests. Instead, Dan had bitter sarcastic, a constant state of crushing anxiety, and facebook stalking Phil Lester before the sun had even risen.

Dan's grandma also messaged him on facebook once, but he'd thought it best to just ignore that - it wasn't like she'd noticed after all.

That was besides the point.

It was all besides the point.

Dan's whole life was besides the point.

And perhaps he was indeed overreacting.

But it was early.

And he had that on his side at least.

For fucking once, it seemed like time itself didn't seem solely destined to loathe every ounce of him and destroy his life. Instead, he felt almost paralysed, stuck in time, stuck in this void of overthinking as he found himself not quite able to click on the profile entitled 'Phil Lester', which had shown up in his search results. With three mutual friends.

Fuck.

He could worry about messaging him just a little later, because right now, he'd somehow managed to convince himself that time wasn't quite real, and he had entireties to just lie there, and think, and waste away, waste his life away, and embrace the act of wasting it away, like it was art, like it was pretty, like it was purposeful, and like it was anything besides spitefully pathetic.

He really had worked himself into a mess here.

Fuck.

Click.

And suddenly his screen was showing him Phil, Phil Lester, well of course, that was exactly what he'd really asked of it- well not really asked, but whatever, shut up. It was nearly six in the morning and Dan told himself to shut up. And then, it was nearly six in the morning, and Dan found himself unable to really form coherent thought as he clicked upon Phil's profile picture.

People always look hotter in their profile pictures.

It's just a matter of human arrogance, just a matter of how we are that inclines us to paint ourselves as if we live within perfection: every moment, every word, every photo cherry picked, and placed with care and perfection, and the utmost narcissism, in aid of constructing the perfect illusion of happiness and love, and life, and living it.

Phil wasn't like that.

Dan saw that instantly.

It wasn't that Phil wasn't hot. Fuck, Dan wasn't stupid- well, yes he was- and... Phil- he... Phil was beautiful. Hot was questionable, the whole matter of hotness and the male gender was indeed questionable, and now was not the time to be questioning it - Dan had common sense to that degree, at least.

But Phil was beautiful.

And smiling.

A real smile.

The picture was uploaded two weeks ago, and captioned with some angsty Muse lyrics, which Dan, of course, appreciated exceedingly, but nowhere near as much as he found himself, sat there, genuinely smiling at Phil, just smiling, happy, beautiful, sat in his room, making a heart with his hands, which was indeed a little cringy, but awfully cute and Dan appreciated it, Dan appreciated everything.

He clicked next.

The next photo was a few months old, but much of the same nature: Phil's hair was slightly longer, and he was wearing a different shirt, and the posters on his bedroom were slightly fewer, but it had much the same tone, and much the same emotional effect: Phil was beautiful.

And Dan was of course, saying that, as a 'photographer', and not as a 'homosexual', neither of which Dan really reckoned he was, but it was indeed up to debate, not that he was at all actually inviting anyone to debate such matters with him, it was just Phil.

Phil Lester.

Six in the morning.

And Dan couldn't stop smiling.

He sent him a friend request without thinking.

It was what Phil had asked him to do, after all, so really, he wasn't being forward, or stupid, or overreacting, or anything, he was just, just being nice, friendly, just-

'Phil Lester has accepted your friend request.'

The notification popped up and Dan laid there for a few moments wondering if he'd actually been shot, because it sure as hell felt like it, because, fuck, as another notification popped up, Dan died, if he hadn't the first time, that was.

'Phil Lester has liked your profile picture.'

Oh god.

Fuck.

That.

That monstrosity of a profile picture.

Now with seven likes.

Dan liked Phil's in return of the gesture, before going back to his own profile and internally cringing, because fuck, it was just so insanely horrific, especially since Phil had deemed him as a 'photographer', which was of course, all bullshit anyway, but here he was with, with a grainy, shitty, filtered selfie, with him pouting, with his fringe looking terrible, and some even more angsty Muse lyrics as the caption, and a comment, from his grandma, telling him to say hi to his mother and that he really was growing.

Oh grandma.

And then before Dan really knew what was happening, a message box opened up at the bottom of his screen.

Phil Lester.

'Hey! :)'

Fuck. Dan really shouldn't have worried about the whole messaging Phil thing at all, because Phil had done it for him: the first message, and suddenly everything was fine, but it really wasn't fine, because Phil had seen Dan's cringy selfie, and Phil had 'liked' it, and Phil had- Phil had existed basically and Dan was a wreck- and hey, what the fuck was Phil doing awake at six in the morning?

'Hi:) What are you doing awake?'

Dan took a few minutes to compose himself emotionally, before messaging Phil back, trying to figurre out, realistically, how Phil could possibly be awake, because if the guy was a morning person, then they seriously had to stop being friends, because Dan had standards, very fucking low standards, but standards nonetheless.

'What are you doing awake, Dan? ;)'

Phil messaged back: winky face and all.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

'I've had too much coffee. Can't sleep. Haven't slept at all :(. What about you?'

Dan wondered if that made him sound sad. Dan was sad. Dan didn't want Phil to think he was sad, but, of course, Phil had already seen and 'liked' Dan's profile picture, so that was indeed a lost cause. Dan had a mini funeral for his hopes and dreams in his head as Phil typed.

'The birds singing woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep.'

Phil the proceeded to send Dan a video: spanning only four seconds, but Dan swore to god that those four seconds were easily the best four seconds of his life. The video was badly lit, and taken on a cellphone, evidently, angled at a window, Phil's bedroom window presumably, as the sounds of bird song came in through - much louder than it had been for Dan.

'I just turned some music on. Now I can't hear it anymore.'

Dan explained, trying to stop himself from physically fucking gushing over Phil Lester, because that was certainly a bit gay, and Dan prided himself on being at least maybe slightly heterosexual, some of the time, possibly maybe, if he was lucky, if it was a Tuesday, once a year, on special occasions, birthdays, weddings, his own funeral-

'Lost my headphones :(' 

Phil messaged him, only to immediately begin typing again. Dan held his breath.

'Anyway, what about those photos? Did you do them?'

That was perhaps the one thing Dan had accomplished in his life so far, and of course, it wasn't to a high standard, like come on, he was Dan Howell, that was all too much, but he had them, and that was that.

'They aren't very good but I can send them if you want'

Dan opened up the folder entitled 'Photography' on his desk, and took a moment specifically to hate his life as he opened up the files, flicking through them and forcing himself not to grimace.

The thing was, they weren't bad, well, terrible, or anything of that ilk, just nothing spectacular, and Dan had this vision of himself, and talent in one area of his life. He could draw. He could draw to a fairly decent degree and if that was all he had going for him, then fucking great, he would embrace that, and he had done in taking GCSE Art, however, he'd come to regret that as he'd stumbled upon the photography aspect of his GCSE, because Dan wasn't bad, but he wasn't good.

And Phil was in college.

And Phil cared.

Phil had a preformed opinion: expectations and an opportunity for disappointment, and judging him and the matter of first impressions, well not really first, something like- fuck, Dan honestly didn't know, but what he did know was that Phil had sent him three more messages and that he certainly was going to die before it hit seven am.

'Don't put yourself down! :('

'I'm sure they're amazing. You're amazing. I want to see them.'

'Dan? :('

Dan blushed a little, typing a letter so Phil could see that he was typing and not ignoring him, or more realistically, having some form of mental breakdown as he sat there, contemplating his entire existence and indeed whether or not it was worthy of Phil Lester.

'Sorry, I was just looking at them. I don't know which one to send you.'

Dan hoped Phil would suddenly change his mind, or maybe die or something, or maybe his house would catch on fire, and he'd have to rush out of it, and forget all about Dan's shitty photography in the process.

But he didn't.

Of course he didn't, because the universe hated Dan, and if he'd gotten off this one, then it seriously just wouldn't have been any fun, would it?

'All of them? :)'

Phil suggested, and Dan swore to God, he fucking-

He let out a sigh, sitting up a little in bed, and probably pulling every muscle in his body as he did so, because well, he hadn't moved out of an extremely bad position in about two and half hours, and his posture was perhaps just as fucked as he was in that moment.

But fuck, fuck his life, fuck his posture, fuck, fuck, fuck-

Dan sent them.

And Dan held his breath as facebook showed him that Phil had 'seen' the messages, and then as he presumed Phil was looking at them, and Dan was honestly at the point of collapsing when facebook insisted upon notifying him that 'Phil Lester had sent him a message'.

'Those are amazing, seriously. I love your style. It's very dramatic, sort of avant garde. I don't really know what that means but, I think they're great!'

Dan didn't really know what avant garde meant either.

But he did know that he was smiling and blushing like hell, sat there, because suddenly, all it had taken was Phil to say they were amazing, and Dan was okay, well not 'okay', but- but something had happened, inside his heart, inside his head, honestly, he didn't know which, and he wasn't all that fussed to find out.

Instead, he smiled, fuck, he took a good few minutes just to smile, wholeheartedly smile, and of course, realised that he hadn't messaged Phil back, and seriously freak the fuck out about that, because oh god, Phil couldn't hate him now- well, of course, Phil couldn't, because that wouldn't make any sense, but-

'Thank you. I think you're amazing.'

'That's me, amazing Phil.'

'That's really dorky, but also very you, not that you're dorky, but I mean, dorky isn't a bad thing, it's just. You, you're very lovely. And thank you so much. No one has really said that they like my photography before. It means a lot and I think maybe in future I should get more sleep before talking to you, because I am just a mess right now.'

And Dan knew he sounded pathetic and gushy: a mess, a perfect fucking mess, and it was all lovely and fucked up, but he reckoned maybe just in that moment that he was to some degree okay, and that was indeed what mattered, to some degree.

To some degree, okay.

To some degree, he was...

No, not, not love, but to some degree, the idea of Phil Lester's existence was indeed a wonderful one.

Fuck, no, not even to some degree, to all degrees, to every single fucking degree in the world, fuck, to every single fucking degree in the universe.

And Dan knew it.

-


	5. That Makes Me Sound Suitably Heterosexual

Dan was certainly feeling the effects of staying up so late and completely ruining his life come something like ten the following morning.

At least he'd gotten that fucking photography done.

And at least Phil had liked it.

Somehow Phil liking it entirely outweighed the photography's original worth, and honestly Dan just didn't know what to do, and of course what he could possibly think about that.

Because Phil was this cool, yet odd, _quirky_ , beautiful, blue eyed college boy, and Dan was currently sat in the corner of his art classroom willing his work to disappear into the fucking void, because suddenly with Phil gone, his work held no presence and no meaning and ceased to be little more than a burden upon him: something to be embarrassed of, ashamed of, because within minutes, Dan's self worth had crippled and fallen into nothingness, and it was all down to his fucking reliant tendencies, and the way he'd constructed Phil's presence in his mind, when in reality Phil was the weird fucking guy with a ferret called Susan.

But he was so, _so_ beautiful, and Dan was in love with the idea of that, at least, and his photography, and his artwork in general was a pile of shit in comparison. Hell, Dan was a pile of shit in comparison, and he knew that thinking like this did nothing to help him, but still, his last concern was 'benefitting himself' as he placed his head down on the desk and tried to focus on not fucking falling asleep right then and there and melting away into the desk.

Dan enjoyed art, as it was, _art_ , drawing and all that, but the actual _class_ was not something he found himself quite so fond of, mainly due to the fact that Chris, his one and only friend, wasn't in it, and was indeed off doing drama and drooling over PJ Liguori - god, Dan hoped that one day he'd find some success when it came to PJ, even if that solely went as far as simply making somewhat decent conversation with him on a somewhat regular basis, because if he didn't, Dan was pretty fucking sure he was going to go insane from hearing about it.

"Hey, are you asleep?" Dan jumped up, his eyes widening as they met with a brown pair. The eyes weren't just there, existing solely as eyes, because if they were, then Dan would be pretty fucking certain that he was hallucinating at this point. Instead, they belonged to a girl with brown hair, about shoulder length - who Dan had never really paid much attention to, and had really never paid much attention to Dan either, until, of course, to ask him if he was asleep.

"No..." Dan stammered out, blushing as he did so, and only then coming to realise that the girl had caught sight of his photography and pulled it across the table to get a better look at it: something Dan had really not wanted to happen. "It's terrible- I'm sorry..." He managed to force out, before he resorted to just biting his lip and bracing himself for whatever atrocious consequences could possibly come of such a situation.

"No, no, don't say that." She exclaimed, causing Dan to tentatively pull his gaze back towards her; she remained focused at his work, glancing over it extensively, and Dan honestly felt as if she was slicing him open with a scalpel or something equally as horrific. "I like it, I really do, you have a clear style here. I mean, there's area for improvement, but there always is with everything - nothing _ever_ has to perfect, as nothing is _ever_ going to be. I think you could maybe try experimenting with contrast, and focusing more so upon the subject, as I think they can be a little fuzzy, like you can get lost in them - there's just so much, which is not a bad thing, I just personally like things to be clear and direct. Of course, you don't have to listen to what I say at all." She finished her sentence with a grin before sliding Dan's work back to him across the table.

"Oh... uhh... thanks." Dan found himself blushing again as he picked up his work and glanced over it once more before turning it over and placing it back down on the desk.

"You're Daniel, aren't you? We haven't really spoken before - I'm Cat." She said with a smile, leaving Dan to wonder just what kind of shit she could possibly be on that had made her feel inclined to speak to him.

"Uhh..." Dan stuttered out, his eyes widening a little, "y-yeah, I mean it's Dan, but... yeah..."

"Okay, Dan," She continued to smile, like seriously to the extent that it was starting to unnerve him, "do you want to look at my work?" She asked, getting out her photography before she'd even given him a chance to respond.

"Why are you talking to me?" Dan asked her rather blankly, only coming to realise just how rude he'd come across once the words had left his mouth.

She looked up: a little startled by the directness of his question, "uhm... do I have to have a reason? You were sat on your own and I've never spoken to you before, so I wanted to see what kind of person you were-"

"Sorry." Dan grimaced, "it's- I didn't mean to come off like that, _fuck_ , I... I just, I didn't think I was worth talking to."

"You're too harsh on yourself." Cat told him, _still_ fucking smiling as she passed him her photography, "as I said, mine's not perfect either."

Dan's eyes widened in disbelief, because _fuck_ , her work was at least seven thousand times better than his. The photographs were more human subject based; the focus clear and direct as she had said before, and the tone of the images rather cold and dramatic: littered with blacks and reds and perhaps colour where there didn't even need to be, creating a rather harsh effect, that worked to frame the subject, who was never made explicitly recognisable, but definitely masculine in nature with a flat chest and broad shoulders, in an odd sort of power and mystery.

"I love this." The words tumbled awkwardly from Dan's lips before he could really stop himself.

Cat laughed at that, " _thank you_ , Dan."

"Who is it?" Dan asked, "the subject, I mean."

"A friend, sort of... friend, sort of not, I mean we kissed a bit, but... uhh... I don't know, it's complicated." It was finally her turn to blush, tucking her hair behind her ears as she spoke.

"Oh... what's his name?"

"Can't tell you that now, can I, Dan?" She laughed a little, "that'd be no fun at all."

"What do you mean?" He asked: his expression one of confusion.

" _Means_ , that I don't want to tell you," she laughed it off, awkwardly, "is that _okay_?"

"Agh, shit- sorry- I'm... really tired today- well, actually I'm this incompetent normally, I just-"

"Don't worry about it. I like your style; I think you're cool."

-

"So what? She just came up and started _talking_ to you?"

"Yes, Chris - it happened _exactly_ like that." Dan let out a sigh, finding himself explaining what had happened with Cat in art to him for something like the seven thousandth time.

"Are you _sure_?" Chris narrowed his eyes, looking at Dan as if there was absolutely no way that he could be telling him the truth.

"Yes." Dan nodded, rolling his eyes a little as the two continued to walk home from school together. It was annoying cold, and by that, it was just cold enough for it to be vaguely irritating, but not cold enough to make it socially acceptable to wear a coat or go around complaining loudly about it, which were both precisely what Dan wanted to do, of course.

Chris didn't live too far from Dan, but in a few streets time they split off in two separate directions, which was something Dan found himself secretly thankful for, because if Chris didn't drop this whole Cat thing soon enough, he reckoned he was going to go insane.

Also he really fucking wanted to go home and just pass out on his bed. There was that too.

"No, girls don't just do that. _Believe_ me, I have tried to get girls to talk to me many times and I have failed." Chris shook his head a little, pulling his face into a sympathetic smile.

"Didn't know PJ was a girl." Dan added before he could stop himself: the comment offhand, and perhaps directed more so at the ground than Chris himself, but Chris still _definitely_ heard him.

" _Hey_ -" He exclaimed, placing his hand on Dan's shoulder and stopping them, "that's... that's, no..." He shook his head, meeting Dan's eyes, "PJ's my _friend_ \- not even that actually, he's... he's an _inspiration_ for me in drama- yes that... that makes me sound suitably het- ahem, I mean, yes, I... I like girls- like I totally- I was fliting with this girl last night, her name's... PJ...PJecca- okay I wasn't, because... well... yeah, the ladies don't seem to flock to me - can't see why-"

" _Chris_..." Dan narrowed his eyes, "you know you can talk to me, right?" Chris nodded, blushing a little, "about anything, your sexuality, your life, your-"

"Dan, I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm _actually_ not gay!" He exclaimed, even raising his hands up in the air for dramatic effect or emphasis or something like that. "And PJ's just a cool guy, I mean, I just really want to be his friend - it's... it's... kind of sad actually... wow... me and my fantastic life, you're so totally jealous."

"Chris, considering the fact that you have more than three times as many friends as me, and have dated more people than I've ever spoken to without shitting myself, _yes_ I am jealous of your life." Dan let out a sigh, deciding it best to drop the whole PJ thing, for the time being, at least anyway.

"Dan, I've dated like two people." Chris laughed a little as they continued to walk again,

" _Exactly_." Dan exclaimed, "you're like the only person I can have a comfortable conversation with."

" _Dan_ , you need to get out more." Chris let out a sigh, looking Dan over with an odd sense of concern, "I think you should go for Cat. Girls don't just talk to you for no reason - I _know_ that. So she probably likes you to some degree, so see how it goes, hey? Go for it."

"I don't like her like that." Dan met Chris' eyes, and trying all he could _not_ to think of Phil, and failing miserably in the process of doing so.

" _What_?" Chris exclaimed with a laugh, "she's a girl, she's a _good_ looking girl, like a solid eight, eight point five maybe, and... you _don't_ want to go out with her?"

Dan shrugged it off, "I've only spoken to her once. I don't really know her."

" _So_?"Chris continued to laugh, "you can find out about out her _when_ you're dating-"

"That's the worst advice I have ever heard." Dan told him plainly, brushing his hair away from his face, "I'm just not- I don't know, _attracted_ to her."

"How- oh my god-" Chris exclaimed, his eyes widening, "you like someone else. You _totally_ do, oh my god you're going red! Who is it?"

"I'm going red because you're fucking embarrassing me, that's why!" Dan exclaimed, rolling his eyes, "I don't have a crush on anyone, so can you just fuck off - I want to get home, and I'm tired-"

"Dan, okay, okay, I'm sorry," Chris reached for his arm and pulled him back to face him, "I didn't mean it, okay?"

"It's okay," Dan ran a hand back through his hair, "I'm just tired. I should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah, get some sleep." Chris nodded, "you sure you don't want me to find someone to _help_ you get some sleep, though, if you know what I mean?"

"I'm _very_ sure." Dan rolled his eyes, "I don't need any kind of help with anything like that."

Dan was sure that the only help he could possibly need was help with getting Phil off his mind, because he was certainly failing when it came to that.

Dan waited until Chris had disappeared down the road he turned off to, before letting out a sigh of 'dear Jesus Christ fuck my life', and pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, with little more than the intentions of putting his headphones in, but instead finding his phone lighting up with a new message, sent only four minutes ago - from Phil Lester.

_'Are you free right now?'_

And suddenly Dan was so not tired anymore that he actually forget what sleep was in favour of Phil Lester.

He also probably set the world record for fastest typed reply, especially when extremely tired, with no sleep.

_'Yeah I was just heading home.'_

Dan waited, fucking _holding_ _his_ _breath_ as the little icon signifying that Phil was typing popped up. Thankfully, he didn't take long, because otherwise Dan would have probably died, seeing as he could barely hold his breath for thirty seconds.

_'You want to come over to mine instead?'_

Dan instantly died.

_'Yeah, I'd need to go home and get changed first though, but sure :)'_

-

Dan was equally as dead inside when he made it to Phil's road, having found that Phil didn't actually live much more than four minutes away from him, which was easily the best news he'd ever heard in his entire life.

Honestly, Dan still wasn't even quite over the idea of Phil's existence.

He was just awfully cute, and that was causing Dan some serious heart problems, as he stood outside Phil's house awkwardly texting him to tell him that he was outside because he felt uncomfortable ringing the doorbell.

Thankfully, Phil appeared, opening the door only a minute or so later, dressed in black jeans and an entirely too colourful shirt.

"Never heard of a doorbell?" Phil asked: his tone obviously light hearted, but still Dan found himself stood there blushing.

"I... uhh... felt awkward, like you know, if someone else answered it, you know, I-"

"No one else is home." Phil said, _all too fucking casually_ , because Dan was totally fucking fixated upon his Adam’s apple, and in turn, his own death.

"O-oh..." Dan practically choked on his own words, forcing his eyes back up to Phil's face, as he awkwardly followed him inside, "so... why did you invite me over?"

"Just wanted to see you." Phil met him with the most genuinely beautiful smile that Dan had _ever_ fucking seen. "Not interrupting your busy schedule, I hope."

Dan only laughed at that, "the only thing I was going to do when I got home was _sleep_."

"Oh god, you didn't get any sleep last night and I've made you spend time with me, I-"

" _Phil_ ," Dan interrupted him, "it's fine, I'm okay, as long as you're not expecting me to do like a fucking workout with you or something."

"I was thinking more of showing you Susan and watching Netflix, honestly, but whatever you want, I mean, I just want to spend some time with you. I had a shitty day at college today." He let out a sigh before leading Dan upstairs - _not_ like that.

Dan completely died as he realised that Phil had asked him to come over because he was feeling shitty and that hanging out with him would make him feel better, and that was honestly far too much for Dan to handle. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked after a moment, "your day, I mean, it's like fine if you don't-"

Phil let out an awkward groaning noise in response, "I don't know, it's nothing meaningful, I just- my friend's being a dick and I don't know just not a good day."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Dan told him, following Phil into his bedroom, and taking in his surroundings, and in particular the walls which seemed to be _entirely_ devoid of free space: covered completely in posters and random photographs.

"Oh my god-" Phil suddenly exclaimed, snatching a framed photograph off the windowsill, "don't look at that - that's me age twelve-" His cheeks suddenly reddened as he held it to his chest.

Dan laughed a little, "why do you keep it on your windowsill?"

"My mum makes me. She's like, you have to reflect on your memories, Philip, and I'm-"

" _Philip_?" Dan exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh my god-"

"What did you think Phil was short for? Margret?" Phil rolled his eyes a little, sitting down on his bed and patting the space next to him in prompt for Dan to join him. "Huh, _Daniel_?"

Dan cringed as he did so, "okay, Prince Philip."

" _No_." Phil grimaced, "don't, my mum calling me Philip is bad enough."

"Whatever you say, Philip," Dan laughed a little, knowing he was pushing it, but like he was tired, also the way Phil was smiling was genuinely killing him.

" _Stop_ , Daniel." Phil gave him a little shove, not anticipating that it would cause Dan to fall down onto his bed, looking up at Phil with those fucking beautiful eyes, and the world's most wonderful smile. "Sorry," he blushed a little.

"It's fine," Dan continued to smile, "don't think I'm ever getting up again, though - your bed's really comfy."

"Thanks?" Phil laughed a little, pulling his knees up to his chest and watching as Dan curled up a little and rested his head back on the pillows. "My friend was being homophobic today." He found himself saying out of nowhere, causing Dan's eyes to immediately fixate upon him. "Nothing too bad, just, you know, saying 'that's so gay', and stuff, it just... I don't like it, and then, if he knew that I... I like boys... I... I mean I like girls too, but I don't know, 'that's so bisexual' doesn't quite have the same ring to it."

"I'm sorry-" Dan stuttered out, trying to focus on getting his mind to do anything other than replaying Phil saying 'I like boys' for the rest of his life. "Some people are just... just... _dicks_."

"Maybe dicks is the wrong word." Phil concluded, "cause, well, I like dicks, but no homophobes."

"Oh my _god_." Dan exclaimed: his cheeks practically on fire by this point, as he lay there: in _Phil's_ bed.

-

 


	6. Why Is There This Weird Emo Hobbit Child In Our House?

When Dan woke up and didn't immediately recognise his surroundings, his first thought was that he'd been abducted by aliens, and then when he realised that it was unlikely aliens would abduct him into a bedroom, that he'd been kidnapped, and then finally, as he caught sight of black hair and blue eyes beside him: Phil.

_Phil's house_.

Which was certainly a better alternative to abduction or kidnapping.

Honestly, being at Phil's house was a better alternative to the entirety of Dan's house, but there was just the question of him not being quite able to recall just why he was here and even what fucking day it was.

Phil soon noticed Dan's eyes opening and him stirring a little. "You fell asleep." He told him with a smile, putting his laptop lid down and placing it on the bed beside him. Phil was sat up on his laptop with his back against the wall, beside Dan's feet, who suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious and guilty for falling asleep in someone else's bed and then sprawling out across its entirety, as to condemn them to sit awkwardly in the corner.

"S-sorry." He blushed, running a hand back through his hair and immediately having some form of heart attack as he came to realise that it had grown curly in his sleep, and _fuck_ , Phil could see, and fuck, Phil was just looking. Phil was just looking at him, and Dan was dying - what do you mean that isn't a normal human response to Phil Lester looking at you?

"Your hair's fine." Phil told him, narrowing his eyes a little, and only then did Dan sit up and really wake up enough to make note of the glasses Phil was wearing.

"I didn't know... you-" He gestured awkwardly to Phil's face, and the older boy, thankfully, got the general idea of what Dan's still half asleep brain was attempting to say.

"Yeah, I wear contacts usually, I mean I just took them out overnight-"

" _Overnight_!?" Dan exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief as he attempted to process the fact that he just slept overnight in Phil Lester's bed, and oh god, his mum was going to crucify him.

"Yeah, you shouldn't do all-nighters - you were really tired, and I just wanted to let you sleep. It isn't a problem, don't worry about it. It's like seven am now, by the way, and it's Saturday, incase you'd forgotten so there's no need to worry about school-"

"What about my _mum_?" Dan exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief, "she's going to think I've been murdered-"

"Oh, yeah, she called you last night, and I'm sorry if, but I tried to wake you at first, but you wouldn't wake up, so I just answered it, and I just told her that I was your friend, Phil, which is true, and that you were at mine and you fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you up because you didn't get any sleep last night, which is true-"

"And my mum was just _fine_ with that?" Dan was practically yelling at this point: genuinely wondering if Phil had been talking to the right woman here.

"Yeah," Phil nodded, "she said I 'sounded nice' so it was okay."

Dan sat there dumbfounded for a few moments, before the realisation came like a bag of bricks to the face, "oh _fuck_ , yeah... she's probably over the fucking moon that I've made a friend." He groaned, lying back down and burying his face in Phil's pillow. "Fuck, she didn't like do anything embarrassing like recount my birth to you in great detail over the phone or something?" He asked.

"No," Phil laughed a little, shaking his head, "I think I might have hung up if she did that."

"I don't blame you." Dan groaned, sitting back up again and glancing across at Phil, and suddenly taking note of the fact that he was wearing pajamas, which was, of course, so _undeniably_ Phil, "wait, so did you- where did you sleep- you should have just kicked me out, I'm serious, I-"

"In my bed." Phil told him, calmly, "at this end. You were all curled up into a ball so it was easy to fit. I don't get how you can sleep like that, though, it's just-"

"I'm so sorry-" Dan exclaimed before Phil could finish.

"What for?" He asked: confusion evident upon hos face.

" _Everything_ , I- stealing your bed, and falling asleep, and making you talk to my mum, and you probably didn't even want me here, and I-"

" _Dan_!" Phil raised his voice, reaching out and grabbing his wrist, and in turn, his attention. "Of course I want you here," he told him: his voice stern and sincere, and words spoken, with his hand still grasped onto Dan's wrist, which was probably why Dan had been finding it hard to breathe.

"Are you sure-"

" _Dan_." Phil narrowed his eyes, "I want you here. Do you believe me?"

Dan nodded, looking down and blushing, "yeah, I just... overthink things, sometimes, a lot, maybe, like all the time..." he trailed off, reaching for his cellphone, and feeling his face burn up as he read the texts his mum had sent him last night: the 'what the hell is going on, where are you?' texts, before Phil had answered her call, and then the 'you made a new friend, why didn't you tell me about him, he sounds lovely' ones that followed.

"I like you, Dan," Phil told him, "of course I want you here. You shouldn't think so bad of yourself all the time."

"I guess... I... I'm trying not to, I just... it's like my natural reaction," Dan trailed off, blushing as he stuffed his cellphone into his pocket.

"I'm sorry," Phil looked at Dan for a moment, before getting up out of bed and hitting him with a smile, "do you want breakfast then?"

"I... uhh..." Dan stuttered out, looking up at Phil, "are your parents not going to be like why is there this weird emo hobbit child in our house?"

"They're not in, I told you, remember?" Phil reached his hand out to Dan, "come on, I can totally make pancakes."

"By totally do you mean totally or _'totally'_?" Dan asked, a little skeptical.

Phil laughed a little, "both."

-

Phil could absolutely _not_ make pancakes, but still, Dan had to appreciate the fact that he was trying, and Phil's ass as well, because he had an excellent view of it as he watched Phil attempt to whisk some shit in a bowl, and well, Phil's ass was really worth appreciating.

As was Phil in general, honestly, Dan was a good ninety seven percent sure that Phil Lester was the eighth wonder of the world, and he'd barely known the guy a few weeks. He didn't need to know him for years to know what he felt in his heart mean something, and that Phil's ass was as beautiful and perfect as he was.

In fact, Dan had found himself so enthralled with the miraculous wonders of Phil's ass, that he drifted off into another dimension entirely, and didn't realise he'd been staring, and very obviously so, until Phil waved a floury hand in front of his face.

And Dan had his second almost heart attack of the day.

Like seriously, Phil Lester was a _legitimate_ health hazard and Dan was going to file a formal complaint and sue the guy... sue him for being so adorable and _insanely_ hot at the same time, because it was going to kill him.

Really it wasn't just that. It was the fact that Phil actually cared about him; it was that Phil wanted to spend time with him, it was that Phil cared about him and his opinions, and his shitty photography, and didn't care that his mum was literally the most embarrassing person in the world, it was that Phil, despite all logic and reason, thought he was a wonderful person.

That was what was killing Dan.

Also the ever aging and temporary nature of the human body, and the non-expendable nature of his vital organs, because that was also killing Dan, as it was killing everyone, slowly- _but_ , anyway.

The matter at hand was Phil, and his hand waved in Dan's face, covered in fucking flour, and- _oh god_ , Phil's hand on Dan's cheek, and Phil's face erupting into a smile as he placed a floury handprint upon Dan's skin.

"Oops." Phil giggled a little, but Dan didn't believe that it was an accident even for a second; Phil didn't expect him to though. "Sorry."

Phil just... Phil didn't know, honestly. He certainly like Dan, but he couldn't quite figure out as to what extent and in which particular way, and honestly, he was just playing every moment with Dan by ear and hoping for the best, and it was just so that his hand ended up upon Dan's cheek, and it was just so that his heart rate was beginning to increase as he met Dan's eyes.

Dan really had beautiful eyes- wait, shit, that was a bit gay. Phil decided to backtrack away from that thought and take a step back, away from Dan: the beautiful sixteen year old in his kitchen, with the over worried, but generally quite lovely mum, who'd told him that he'd 'sounded nice' - whatever that could have possibly meant.

"You are _not_ sorry." Dan rolled his eyes at Phil: unable to prevent himself from smiling, however, "you so did that on purpose."

"Nope." Phil blushed a little, giggling, as he glanced back at the pancakes he was _attempting_ to make. Serious fucking emphasis on 'attempting', because Phil didn't do _cooking_ breakfast; Phil did last minute half burnt toast or maybe some cereal if he was feeling particularly luxurious, but... but... _Dan_.

It was only then that Phil seriously processed the fact that he was making these pancakes for Dan's benefit. And it was only then that Phil seriously processed the connotations of such a fact. He blushed a horrible shade of red.

"Can you-" He stumbled over his words: his eyes fixating upon the pancakes, "can you like make sure they don't disintegrate or try not to burn the house down while I go and feed Susan?" He didn't even look at Dan as he asked, just making his way out of room: determined to hide his blush, because _nothing_ about this looked good, and he knew for sure that he was so unbelievably _fucked_ , but still, he really wasn't putting in a particular effort _not_ to flirt with Dan, was he?

Phil made his way upstairs, and initially made his way into the bathroom in order to look himself over and contemplate the meaning of life briefly as he adjusted his fringe, and then went into Susan's room and feed her some of those tasty ferret snacks that ferrets eat - meat and shit. High in protein, high in energy, and low in fiber, as peteducation.com says.

He also changed her water before sitting down on the floor and watching her eat her breakfast, and continued to contemplate his existence, but in particular _Dan_. Susan had always liked Dan. Susan had brought him to Dan in the first place - perhaps he should thank her for that.

He just wasn't sure what he was supposed to think about Dan at all.

So, Phil did what _anyone_ would do, and asked his ferret for advice.

"Susan?" He kept his voice low: fearing that Dan would hear him talking to his ferret about him. Like seriously, that feel when cute guy(tm) hears you shittalking to your elongated rodent about him, as he tries his best not to burn your kitchen down. Phil related strongly in that moment.

Susan didn't respond because she was a fucking ferret, but if she could have spoken, the likelihood was that she would have said something along the lines of, 'yes, Phil?' or maybe 'why are you asking me for advice I'm _literally_ a ferret? I don't know shit.'

"You know Dan?" Phil continued, reaching into her cage and stroking her a little.

Susan did know Dan, after all, she was the one who'd run into him, and would have said something to the effect of, 'yes that weird emo hobbit boy who I nearly killed. I know him'.

"I don't know what to do, because I think... I don't know really, but I think I kind of have feelings for him." Phil continued in his rather one-sided heart to heart with his ferret.

Susan was obviously thinking something like, 'of course you have feelings for him! I ran into him for a reason,' as she was definitely a secret ferret matchmaker.

"What do you think I should do?" Phil continued to ask: whole heartedly serious as he spoke, however jumping a little as he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs - so it was either a murder or Dan, and Phil didn't know which one was worse if they'd heard him talking to Susan.

It was Dan, which was confirmed as he made his way into Susan's room, and letting out a laugh as he noticed how Phil was sat with her.

"Did you burn the house down?" Phil asked, looking up at him: blushing.

"No," Dan laughed, "they're done. I was wondering if you'd died or something, you've been up here _literally_ forever."

Phil raised his eyebrows at that getting up and putting Susan back in her cage. "Literally?"

"Yes. Literally yes." Dan nodded, running a hand back through his hair and cringing at the reminder that it was still in its natural curly state. "Ugh... my hair-"

"Looks lovely." Phil insisted, "it looks lovely. Come on, breakfast?"

Dan nodded, biting his lip as he attempted to hide the blushing growing upon his cheeks, and made his way out of the room. As the two began to walk downstairs, he continued to ask, "were you talking to Susan in there?"

Phil instantly blushed, because _fuck_ , Dan couldn't have _heard_ him- oh god, could he? "W-why did you hear anything?"

"No," Dan shook his head, "I just, it's just the way you were sat with her - like she's your friend not your pet-"

"She is my friend!" Phil protested, meeting Dan's eyes, "ferrets are people too, Dan."

" _Technically_ , no-" Dan began to explain as they made it back into the kitchen, but Phil was having absolutely _none_ of Dan's ferret dehumanising bullshit.

" _No_. Susan has rights. She is a person too-"

"But she's a ferret. It's a different species, _technically_ , Phil- come _on_ ," Dan laughed a little, wondering if they were genuinely having an argument about whether his ferret was a person. Phil was definitely one of a kind, and perhaps that was why Dan felt so _drawn_ to him, apart from how unfairly attractive he was, of course.

"No, you mean human," Phil told him, pausing to smile as he noticed that Dan had put the pancakes out onto plates. "Wow you actually didn't burn them- anyway, what you mean is human, and yes, of course I know that Susan isn't human, but she is a _person_. They're different things."

"Are they?" Dan looked unconvinced, sitting down at the table beside Phil. "And yeah, I am not entirely incompetent."

Phil smiled a little, " _see_ , you're getting there. You're wonderful and talented and-"

Dan narrowed his eyes, groaning a little, _"Phil_."

"A person is an individual being. Mainly used to mean human being, _yes_ , but being can refer to animals, so therefore, Susan is a person. And I definitely think of her so." Phil concluded, smiling at Dan.

"You have a point. I know people that are probably less human than Susan." Dan groaned at the mental images of some of the people attending his school. "You're lucky you don't go to school anymore."

"They're still dicks at college, but... it's better, I'd say that." Phil began to eat his pancake, "see these aren't bad-"

"You sound surprised," Dan laughed a little, "were you expecting that you'd poison me or something?"

"No, no- I just..." Phil laughed, "I don't really cook much, especially breakfast, this is just because you're here, I don't want to give you some soggy toast or something-"

"Do you seriously think I even have the motivation or time to even eat breakfast most days?" Dan asked, laughing a little, because Phil Lester seriously had too much faith in him entirely.

"You should eat breakfast, Dan," Phil exclaimed, "it's the most important meal of the day- you need it, you know eating breakfast can you just make you feel that little bit better in general-"

Dan let out a sigh, "you sound like my mum."

"I don't sound nearly as embarrassing as your mum did, I promise you-"

" _Phil_!" Dan exclaimed, his eyes widening as he practically fell off his chair.

"I'm joking!" Phil promised him, placing his hand over Dan's accidentally, but finding no particular want or reason to move or do anything about it.

"Y-you better be..." Dan stumbled over his words a little, his face heating up as he looked down at their hands, and _ohmyfuckingactualgodisthisactuallyreal_ \- let's just say Dan maybe couldn't breathe a little.

"I don't know." Phil laughed a little, "maybe you'll have to ask her yourself-"

Phil was cut off however as Dan's phone began to vibrate rather loudly in his pocket and _completely_ destroy whatever had been going on between them.

Dan blushed a little, "fuck..." and reached for his phone to see Chris calling him at eight in the morning, which was beyond unnatural for Chris, so his house must have burned down or something incredibly important like that.

And with that in mind, Dan answered it.

Only to hear Chris practically screaming down the phone at him, "PJ accepted my friend request on facebook!"

-


	7. Get The D (Grade) For The D(ick)

It was sort of awkward between them.

The awkwardness was of course a product of their own construction, but yet not something either of the two could be specifically blamed for.

It wasn't his fault.

It wasn't her fault.

This was just the result: the consequence.

And all their friends remained oblivious - not their _collective_ friends because they didn't have collective friends - this was the way it went. There were _his_ friends whom he didn't particularly care excessively for, and there were her friends who she found herself trying too hard to give a shit about.

They were both, a little disconnected, and brought together by her friend and his friend, who were dating at the time, dating still, and someone had once thrown in the idea of a double date: an idea they'd both felt forced into but had let occur nonetheless. It was, in short, an idea that did not work.

They had indeed spent time together, because they had shared things in common, but just not in a way their friends felt they were _supposed_ to. They were both artistically inclined - something the majority of their friends were not and in that they found a connection: he being a drama student and she being an art student, and they found a creative kind of atmosphere in conversation with one another, which was what had really cultivated the friendship.

Their friends all believed it to be something more - their friends all _wanted_ it to be something more - their friends all saw that this was the only way they could possibly spend so much time together, and that perhaps was what had led her to look at him like that - like they asked him to.

He didn't look back.

And through a series of events and his bedroom floor on a Tuesday at two am and music in the backroom a conclusion came of it all. A conclusion of an attempted kiss and words slurred and truthful murmurs in darkness, and cursing of friends, and solace in one another, and confessions in regards to her insecurities, and how he shared them.

And then the cherry on top of it all.

The real page turner - the truth, the secret that only she knew, the reason why he wasn't kissing back, the reason why he felt out of place with his friends, and the reason why he tucked himself up in dark corners and produced even darker pieces of art.

He liked boys.

And she didn't expect that at all.

But she didn't judge - she wouldn't have judged - they reached that point of understanding with one another.

She didn't quite know what to say, though. Silence was indeed sufficient and things had gotten a little twisted because she started to notice how their friends forced the idea of them as a _thing_ upon them, and the idea of heterosexuality and dating girls upon him, and how that must make his head ache.

And then she understood.

Then he made more sense.

He made short films: creative pieces - that he showed to very few people, and seemed abstract and holding very little sense or coherency, but still stood out regardless. But with that, they made sense. And they were dark, so dark, and she was so sorry for the boy with the curly hair, who she'd kissed a bit, who was the subject of that so dramatic photography that Dan Howell had asked about.

She wasn't sure what to make of Dan Howell, and of course, she'd brought that issue to him, because she found herself disregarding what her friends said so much more as of recent - this was down to him, and his way of thinking, which she was only beginning to crack, but indeed, this boy was so much more than thoughts - he was galaxies and constellations in human form.

And she did indeed admire him: just not like that. She had, perhaps briefly, but no, he was easily taking form as her best friend - something neither of their friends had expected.

Because his friends were out drinking beer in a park and getting high, and her friends were at a party, and they were sat here in his attic both on the presence of being sick.

He sat there with a hand running back through his hair as he tried to put a face to the name Dan Howell. "I can't recall him really." He concluded with a shrug, "sorry, Cat."

"It's okay." She told him: small smile on her lips as they continued to vaguely listen to whatever music was on in the background - his choosing, something she didn't recognise, because she was pretty sure that if the song had been listened to than more than one hundred people he just didn't care for it.

Perhaps he was kind of an ass in that way, but she found him to be truly interesting and so much more worth her time that a shitty party where her friends would rush her to hook up with someone.

"He's in my art class. He's got brown hair, brown eyes, _tall_. Kind of lonely - not in a bad way, he just doesn't have too many friends." Cat had learned that this was perhaps not a bad thing and certainly not his fault. "I really like his photography. He liked mine too. He asked about you, being in the pictures, but I didn't say anything."

"Yeah," he smiled, "I like the secrecy of it all. Being the unmasked model: being the hooded figure in the story. Everyone cares too much about me and I'm all secrets and lies and it fucking _sucks_ , you know? I think I’d like to be like Dan Howell with very few friends."

Cat laughed, "I think he'd like to be you, perhaps."

"That's such a stupid thing to want." He paused, "I'd maybe like to meet him though. I'd like to see his photography. I like being inspired - you sound inspired by him, I mean, you don't just go on talking about people for no reason, especially positive things."

Cat smiled, "I think there's something special about him. Should I tell him that it's you in those photos?"

"No. Just be like hey, do you want to come to my house or something, and then be like, oh my friend _PJ_ 's going to be there too." He offered, "very casually."

"He's going to know who you are - you've got quite a reputation, and come on, how many people called PJ are there in this school?"

PJ shrugged, "and what does that matter?"

"I think you don't understand how people see you at all."

"How would I? I'm not them."

"They see you as the straight popular attractive boy, like you're something important, to be talked about-"

"And so if this Dan guy's special in some way then maybe he's not going to see things like that. You didn't."

"Not immediately." She reminded him, however he only shrugged.

"I think you kind of always had an inkling."

-

Dan was kind of low key angry with Chris for totally fucking ruining whatever he had fooled himself into thinking might possibly happen with him and Phil at the weekend, but he knew that it wasn't Chris' fault and that he just had to get over this shit as it didn't look like he was going to be getting over the idea of Phil very soon.

He just reckoned that Phil Lester was something like the world's most perfect person, if there even was such a thing, but if there was, it _had_ to be Phil Lester.

And Chris wasn't ever going to understand that: Chris was easily going to remain obsessing over PJ Liguori for the rest of his fucking life, and that was just something that Dan would have to come to accept, because Chris was his best, if not only friend, and he had to appreciate him for that at least.

Chris still hadn't shut up about PJ accepting his friend request, and it did indeed have him fucking _beaming_ as he made his way into school that morning, and Dan even let him talk obsessively to him about it, and he indeed even went as far as pretending that he didn't know what had Chris so overexcited.

"He's just so fucking beautiful, though, Dan, like that's just so..." Chris paused for a moment, perhaps realising just how gay he happened to be coming across, "....inspirational. He's such a good guy. I want to be like him." Chris seemed to emphasis that point, because there was of course absolutely no chance in hell that Chris Kendall might want to _date_ PJ Liguori, like don't be so fucking _atrocious_.

"I'm sure it is." Dan nodded, letting out a sigh as he leaned back against the wall of the corridor where they stood talking - well, Chris was more so talking _at_ him about PJ and Dan stood there pretending to give far more shits than he did as he scrolled randomly through twitter on his phone, until he saw a new text message coming in, and his heart stopped as he realised that it was from Phil.

_'You left your jacket at my house and my mum found it and now she's questioning who it is, like I tried to tell her it was mine but she isn't having any of it! Help me :((('_

Dan blushed a little, immediately feeling guilty for putting Phil in such a situation, even though it wasn't _directly_ his fault, as he hadn't intended to leave his jacket there at all. _'Sorry. When can you give it me back?'_ He texted back as Chris continued to go on about PJ and his striking eyes, and generally in a very homosexual way.

_'I don't know. When can you see me again? Promise I didn't steal it as an excuse to see you again.'_

Dan smiled as he read Phil's response, replying with: _'You never have to make an excuse to see me. After school?'_

_'Not at my house though because my mum's in. The woods?'_

Dan felt Chris beginning to notice that he wasn't exactly giving him his full undivided attention. _'Sure_.' He responded before putting his phone away and giving Chris a slightly over enthusiastic smile and nod.

"I have drama with him first, I think I might actually die." Dan found himself tuning back into what Chris was saying and perhaps even immediately regretting doing so. "What do I say to him? What if he starts to talk to me or something? Like what do I _do_?"

"Talk back?" Dan suggested, but of course with Chris and on the matter of PJ it was never _ever_ going to be quite that simple.

"About _what_?" Chris exclaimed, feeling colour flood his cheeks, "I just- I... why is he so popular and cute and like a thousand miles out of my league- I mean friend league - come on, Dan, you know what I mean."

Dan narrowed his gaze, because he really didn't know what Chris meant half the time he was talking.

"Come on, Dan, we're both heterosexuals here. I mean I sound a bit gay at times but I'm not - I _promise_!" Chris exclaimed, laughing a little nervously as he did so. "I love boobs."

"Okay Chris." Dan let out a sigh, particularly at the 'we're both heterosexuals' comment, because it wasn't that he was in a particular hurry to come out to Chris or something like that, it was just the matter of straight being the default that bugged him, and seriously, did he look straight? Or did Chris even, because- Because to put it plainly, Dan was sort of offended.

"PJ is really cool, though, you’ve gotta to admit." Chris smiled, glancing around and finding himself rather confused as a girl with brown hair appeared to approach them. He then later realised that this was Cat, and that she actually wanted to talk to Dan instead of him, which he tried really hard not to be personally offended by.

"H-hey... Cat." Dan found himself stumbling as he attempted to even _speak_ , watching as she nodded vaguely in Chris' direction before turning away from him completely and focusing all her attention on Dan, which was something that Chris' ego wasn't a big fan of at all.

"Hey Dan, so yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me after school or something?" Cat offered, smiling, and Dan found himself trying not to throw his face into the wall as he noticed Chris mouthing 'go in for the kill' at him, or something along those lines. Chris was also absolutely failing at being even vaguely discreet.

"I... uhh..." Dan stumbled again, watching as Chris continued to mouth a very enthusiastic 'yes' at him. "I have other plans tonight, but tomorrow, yeah? I'd like to, I- I already told my friend I'd meet him tonight."

"Oh okay." She continued to smile, "I want to show you some more photography as well. I've been working these new ones and I'd really like your opinion. I think you have a very interesting eye when it comes to the arts."

Dan nodded an awkward thank you, "okay see you tomorrow then," and Cat turned away, making her way back down the corridor to wherever the hell she'd come from.

"What the fuck Dan? You just- that was  totally a get laid opportunity and you turned it the fuck down?" Chris was practically yelling at him the very moment Cat got out of ear shot.

"Well, I already have plans, I-" Dan blushed awkwardly.

"What plans? We're not doing anything and even if we were I could see that this is obviously more important and-"

"I have friends that aren't you, you know that Chris? You're not the fucking center of my world." Dan rolled his eyes, before grabbing his bag and making his way down the corridor before Chris could say something back that would do nothing besides making this all one million times worse than it needed to be.

-

Chris felt a little awkward, perhaps even guilty as he made his way to drama, sending Dan an _'I'm sorry'_ text and hoping things would be alright again as soon as they could be, because of course he wasn't the center of Dan's world, and he hadn't intended to give the impression that he thought so, but he knew that Dan didn't have a plethora of friends, and that the person he spent the most time with was easily himself, but... Chris had been wrong and he felt awkward about it, but in the same way, just that little bit jealous, because there Dan was spending time with people that weren't him tonight and tomorrow, and he found himself wondering just when Dan would fuck off and leave him to obsess over PJ alone.

Because the thing was, Chris was that, just that little bit gay for PJ Liguori but it wasn't anything _major_ , like he could deal with it - everyone could deal with it, and they indeedkind of had to deal with him going on about PJ for more than entirely necessary because it was becoming increasingly more unlikely that he was going to stop doing so anytime in the future.

He found himself late to drama and everyone staring at him as he made his way into the room and sat down at the back, of course, everyone included PJ so the situation was automatically made better by that, and he was sat down only two chairs away from PJ as well, so honestly, hell the teacher might have been glaring at him and Dan might hate him right now, but he was having an absolutely fucking wild time in that moment.

He wondered if he should make more of an effort to apologise to Dan and took his phone out discreetly, praying that the teacher wouldn't yell at him for having it out in class, as he sent Dan another text - this time going for a _'I was a bit of an ass - please don't hate me_ ' and then a series of questionable yet amusing emojis that he was sure would suffice in fixing the situation, or at least do the best a series of emojis could.

"Chris?" Chris jumped a little as he felt a hand on his shoulder and the room erupting into chapter - leaving him to assume that the teacher had set them something to do - something he hadn't listened to a word of, of course, because Chris was just such a fucking attentive student.

However, Chris soon had a heart attack as he noticed just _who_ it was talking to him.

God fucking damn.

Chris had only spent sixteen minutes on his hair this morning - why today of all fucking days - seriously?

"Y-yeah..." Chris stumbled out as he found himself realising that he kind of had to respond.

"You're sort of sat in the way." PJ gestured at him, blushing awkwardly as he did so.

"Oh... uhh..." Chris looked down and promptly got up, blushing as he did so, "I'm so sorry, PJ, I really am, I-"

"Hey, it's okay." He told him, running a hand back up through his hair, "you kind of look like you have no idea what you're doing. No offense."

"Yeah, I uhh... wasn't listening." Chris put his cellphone away. "I was texting my friend it was actually kind of important, well it was my fault - I kind of said something that come off really arrogant, and I don't want him to be upset."

PJ nodded, "do you want me to help you?" He offered with a smile.

Chris' eyes widened in disbelief and he nodded frantically, deciding from that moment on he would fucking fail the fuck out of drama if it meant that PJ had to help him, like hell, he'd get the D for the D. The first D being the D grade, and the second D being... well... the dick.

Not that Chris thought about PJ's dick excessively or anything.

Of course he didn't, being 'straight', and everything.

-


	8. i am really tired

It was an odd thing indeed.

And mostly due to the fact that the thing between Chris Kendall and PJ Liguori could now perhaps be described as friendship.

Well, acquaintance/potential friendship perhaps more so, with a truthful emphasis upon acquaintance, which translated into Chris' mind as a certain emphasis on friendship; it couldn't hurt to be optimistic, at least, but Chris' optimism was perhaps borderline unnerving - as Dan had once found himself stating to himself at three in the morning as he contemplated his entire existence and reason for living... as you do.

The two had partnered in drama, and Chris had frequented the toilets before drama classes in order to compose himself to a certain degree, and of course, such a process required the presence of Dan for reasons unbeknownst to him, and therefore rendered him late to every art class he'd had over the course of the past two weeks (as Dan had art when Chris had drama).

Chris used being late to drama as a perfect excuse to get PJ to help him and 'explain' the task to him, as he took all his energy to ensure that he didn't look too obvious as he stared rather lustfully into PJ's eyes and ignored every single word he said... as you do.

Of course, PJ was beyond stupid and had indeed caught on after the second lesson, but in an odd way, he didn't seem to mind.

And indeed, in an even odder way, he didn't seem to mind Chris Kendall as he was - slightly creepy, and indeed weird, because he had this genuine honesty to him, and an incredibly 'adventurous', but indeed unique sense of humour.

PJ appreciated such a genuine personality, and the way he really wasn't just every other boy in that school. PJ was bored. PJ talked to far more people than he'd care to on a daily basis: that was so many conversations that followed much the same patterns, and Chris, evidently brought him some form of break from that, even if the conversations they shared resulted in making PJ feel a little uncomfortable at times, but he found himself embracing that.

At some point he'd been deemed popular - a result of who he'd made friends with back when he was eleven years old, and how they'd gotten on, and the general consensus was that he was fairly attractive, and therefore he felt as if far too many people seemed to be frozen: treading on glass as they spoke to him. It was not something PJ cared for.

In much the same way that Cat was, Chris was different. But the two were indeed vastly different people.

PJ didn't want another Cat. He wanted Chris- ... to be his friend.

Maybe.

Perhaps.

He hadn't quite gotten to a one hundred percent solid conclusion with that one yet.

But he was indeed intrigued by him as he leaned back in his chair, imitating smoking a pipe for no particular reason, and continuing to wink across the room at PJ as their teacher talked vaguely about their pieces and some other random bullshit that had much more to do with her holiday in Greece than the curriculum dictated necessary. In fact, PJ was pretty fucking sure that the GCSE drama curriculum had no mention of their teacher's vacation to Greece over the summer. Yet, still, here he was, finding himself with far more knowledge about a lovely waiter in a cafe in Athens than was entirely necessary.

Chris laughed, rolling his eyes at PJ across the room, before gesturing to their teacher and making a face that appeared as if he was falling asleep from boredom - it didn't look quite as good as Chris had perhaps anticipated, and he did indeed look vaguely as if he'd had a stroke or something equally as medically traumatic and concerning, but there was just something about that which PJ found appealing to him.

Or maybe it was just natural that, Chris, who looked like he was having a stroke, was the most interesting thing in a room full of silent students who he didn't particularly care for, and a middle aged woman going on about the fucking food in Greece. As to how she'd really gotten onto the subject in the first place, PJ honestly had no idea.

PJ was one of those 'odd' people who didn't like it when the teacher went on a tangent and ended up talking a whole load of bullshit about their personal life or what they thought about the ending to Breaking Bad, because the truth was that although maths or geography or some shit may be far less entertaining than Game Of Thrones or something, he wasn't here to learn about how Jon Snow's death had traumatically affected his maths teacher, but about the absolute wonderful blessing to this world that was algebra, in all its hellish glory.

He doubted however that Chris particularly agreed with him, however he didn't really want people to share his every opinion, and especially not just for the sake of agreeing with him, as he personally knew very well that his opinion in most things held very little value to the world extending out of his mind.

He wondered if he would continue to talk to Chris after their project finished; he considered the implications of such a thing, before deciding that he didn't particularly give much of a shit. Chris was kind of good looking and funny, and the thing was, PJ was about sixty five percent sure that Chris was vaguely interested in him romantically and he was pretty sure that everyone he knew in this school was heterosexual.

He also however had made it quite clear to himself that befriending someone on the premise of their assumed sexuality was to quite a substantial degree, morally wrong, but he got the feeling that Chris would understand or perhaps just not care; he appeared rather flippant, but then that was just appearances, which PJ knew more than anything, spoke very little for a person.

But he was pretty certain now.

He wanted to talk to him outside of school - where they had some privacy and PJ could contemplate just how best to approach the subject of sexuality and perhaps engage in some form of discussion upon the matter.

It wasn't that PJ was attracted to Chris.

And it wasn't that he wasn't.

It was just that he got this awfully feeling that Chris would understand his situation much more than anyone else in this school could, and for such a feeling he found himself putting himself out at risk.

Okay, maybe it had something to do with those eyes of his.

Maybe.

-

Dan had forgiven Chris.

It had kind of been inevitable.

It wasn't as if Dan particularly had much of an abundance of friends, was it? And anyway, Dan did indeed care about Chris as a person - the two had become friends for just a few more reasons than their shared lack of friends, at least.

Chris meant well.

He was just particularly lovesick when it came to PJ, and Dan had indeed learned that there was simply no changing that.

And he'd come to accept that Dan and Cat were indeed friends after a bit of explaining, and Dan continued to only vague allude to the existence of someone who may or may not be Phil Lester, who he, of course, may or may not be slightly, if not perhaps moderately in infatuated with, because Phil was indeed both beautiful and absolutely wonderful, and Dan quite honestly found himself struggling to deal with that, because on top of Phil's absolute mountain of perfect qualities lay the rather simple fact that Phil actually liked him - that Phil Lester actually liked and wanted to spend time with him, Dan Howell, who had indeed very little to say for himself when it came to positive qualities.

That was of course something Phil persisted in disagreeing with, though, because of course, Phil couldn't help but see everyone in an absolutely wondrous light; he was just so genuinely nice and Dan was just so genuinely in disbelief at even their friendship, and so much so in fact that he found himself sat in Cat's room, not listening to a single word she said in favour of picturing Phil's eyes in great detail.

He was a bit lovestruck himself, in all honesty, but he knew that the likelihood of anything happening was indeed quite unfortunately slim, as Phil was older, prettier and indeed kinder than him, and most definitely had loads of people even marginally better than Dan whom he'd much rather date.

Dan didn't have a chance, and he knew if it was just better that he admitted that to himself now, before he got too invested in Phil, but the thing was that he just couldn't quite bring himself to do it; he found himself clinging emotionally to Phil and his pretty eyes and genuine smile, and the way that he was indeed a modern miracle of a man - humanity and perfection intertwined in one as they created the person that was Phil Lester: just a little older, and indeed just a little better than Dan all around, but with so much more meaning to his existence; Phil was kind and Phil mattered to people, and Dan generally accomplish very little other than spectacularly fucking things up and seeing that everyone who had ever mattered to him most definitely hated him.

Dan was perhaps just a little too self critical, perhaps, but the thing about self criticism was that you were indeed certain of the fact that you deserved it, which made it so much harder to stop and effectively removed all hope for there ever being anything more to your personality than hatred and insecurity.

Dan hated that.

And he hated the notion that it would only be a matter of time until Phil did too.

"Dan?" Cat asked, raising her voice as she began to wave her hand frantically before Dan's face.

"Huh?" He spluttered: his face conveying a look of shock as he struggled to come back to his senses, and remember just why Cat was waving at him, and just where the fuck he was, and just who the fuck that was stood in the doorway, and- holy fuck that was PJ Liguori.

Dan's eyes widened: his inner Chris Kendall causing him to freak the fuck out, because wait the what the fuck? What was PJ doing here? And oh god, Chris would absolutely murder him out of jealousy if he ever found out about this.

"Dan, this is PJ." Cat told him with a smile, gesturing towards PJ, despite the fact that everyone at school very well knew just who the fuck PJ Liguori was, and god it really was him, just fucking stood there, fucking smiling.

What the fuck was he doing?

Why was he here?

When would Dan stop acting as creepy as Chris?

Dan had a million questions, and Cat seemed anything but prepared to provide him with any form of answers.

"Oh... uhh hey,..." Dan stumbled out, waving awkwardly at PJ, before feeling his cheeks succumb to one hell of a blush. "Hi... hey... uhh... I'm Dan, I-"

PJ smiled and nodded, "yeah, Cat's told me about you." He walked over to Cat's bed where the two were sat, and placed himself down beside Dan - perhaps even a little closer than necessary, which was something that indeed confused the absolute fuck out of him. "All good things. Especially about your photography - I'd love to see some."

Dan blushed, cringed, shriveled up, and died, burying himself in Cat's bed before he could even apologise for the inconvenience he was causing.

And to think he had made fun of Chris.

There was just something about PJ, though - maybe it was just that he was cute, okay, yeah, maybe, but something about him generally, as a person just had Dan entirely captivated, which was increasingly odd considering he'd been tearing himself up over Phil Lester just seconds prior, but this wasn't that kind of captivation.

This was indeed truly platonic, and Dan did indeed find himself considering just what role jealousy played in all of this, because it was evident that it had at least a small role in all of this.

"Oh uhh... I... ugh-"

"Dan," Cat narrowed her gaze, "oh he's just being shy," she offered to PJ before Dan had even said anything yet.

"Nothing wrong with that." PJ said: speaking to them both equally, it seemed. "You don't have to, Dan, I'm just saying that I am curious. Cat doesn't tend to be wrong about things, well, except when she thought that I was into her, but that's a whole different matter."

Dan turned to Cat, expecting her to blush horrifically or something of the like, but instead she lit up with a smile and a laugh that failed to possess even the slightest hint of awkwardness.

"Oh..." Dan trailed off, not really sure what to say in response to that.

"He doesn't like me. At all. Absolutely impossible." Cat confirmed with an odd grin: it was as if the two were even sharing some form of joke between them, which did nothing but succeed in making Dan significantly uncomfortable, and hey, maybe Chris had been right and maybe he should never have 'ditched' him to spend time with Cat, and sure, he knew Chris' opinion would change instantly the very moment he knew that this would involve PJ Liguori, but what did it matter? What did anything matter when he felt as if he was about to fucking explode or something of the like?

"It's not like I'm being harsh," PJ added, catching Dan's eyes and offering him a smile: perhaps having noticed the shift in Dan's expression. "It's just something, you know?"

Dan raised his eyebrows, struggling to find how this was relevant, and how this was a subject of conversation, and how this was something he was supposed to listen to, and be here for, and-

"Hey," PJ cut off his train of thought, "you're friends with Chris, aren't you? Chris Kendall?"

Dan nodded, swallowing. because oh Jesus Christ, PJ had just said Chris' name and he would most definitely never hear the fucking end of this. Not that he had to mention it to Chris, but from the inquisitive tone in PJ's voice, he felt as if it was going to come down to that.

"Yeah, he is." Cat answered for Dan, looking at him, just a little agitated with the fact that he had pretty much failed to converse with PJ on all accounts, but then again, Dan was still looking at PJ like he was the person his reputation made of him, whereas Cat did indeed know him much better than that.

"Yeah..." PJ smiled, trailing off, "give him my number, will you?" He asked, placing a scrap of paper with his phone number on into Dan's palm: almost as if he had indeed prepared all of this.

Dan's eyes widened in disbelief, "if I do this, Chris will scream and freak out and probably end up outside your house with binoculars at three in the morning because it sounds harsh but he's more than just a little bit obsessed with you." Dan let out a sigh. "It's the truth."

PJ smiled, laughing a little, "I like him. He's cool."

Dan snorted at that, "he's really not cool."

"Okay then," PJ sighed a little, "he's cute. I like the guy."

"What kind of like do you mean because if I just tell him then you're probably going to be hit with a marriage proposal." Dan told him it as it was: part of him still unable to figure what the fuck was happening.

PJ shrugged, "I like him. Who knows what that means in a world where everything needs to be defined so specifically-"

Cat threw a pillow at him, "god, stop being such a pretentious ass, will you?"

PJ laughed, "absolutely not." He paused, "you wanna play Cards Against Humanity?"

And with PJ Liguori's number in his hands, under instruction to pass it onto Chris Kendall, that was just that.

Somehow.

-


	9. Things Get A Little Gayer

He felt like throwing up, which really wasn't the most pleasant of starts, but the most truthful, because there was no way around the forever twisting knot of panic and over thinking in his stomach, and he, Dan, was in fact more than very well aware of that now.

And he was indeed just as aware of how little there was he could do about it: the mess of panic and distress in his head, because time after time, it never did get any easier, and truth be told, that fucking sucked, but he'd gotten used to it, well as accustomed to the feeling that he was about to fall into a million pieces as you could be, and it was just that now, a part of his head, a part he hated, not that there were particularly a shortage of them, though.

He didn't have a particularly good relationship with himself, and that was something he did his best to look over, but being himself, that was time and time again proven more difficult than he had indeed anticipated, but still, he tried to block the reality of things out, and sometimes, yes, sometimes he succeeded, it was just that today, that this time, simply was not one of those times.

And he'd tried to deal with that: putting pencil to paper, headphones to his ears, and trying to relax and perhaps even appreciate the day, despite the less than pleasant circumstances: a Tuesday, but all of the above had been little more than vaguely disappointing.

He found himself sat alone in art class, with nothing more to than ruin himself with the simple matter of thinking, but Dan had reached the point of utter social ineptitude in which he began to relish in his own solitude.

He discarded the sketch, no longer having an ounce of patience in his body, glancing over it with disgust as he looked across at Cat and her friends and considered PJ’s number in his pocket which he still found himself unable to gather the courage to give to him. All in all, he just wanted to get the fuck out of there: there being the classroom, because his head was starting to ache and he was getting genuinely nauseous.

Somehow, however, God actually seemed to be on his side for once and the bell rang as Dan looked down at his sketch of some flowers, or what he had intended to be flowers with dismay; he struggled to pull his face into a grin in reaction to the bell, simply putting his stuff away in his bag and making his way towards the door, not even looking back, and most definitely not planning to consider socialising with anyone for the remainder of the day.

Once he made his way out through the doors and corridors and out onto the street he found himself wondering if his mother had been right about all that nonsense regarding fresh air because truth be told, he could actually breathe a little easier out in the street, and that made quite a bit of difference.

He still felt like shit, though, but that was a rather permanent fixture in his head, and he'd tried everything under the sun in order to remedy that, and he'd been cynical in regards to the outside world suddenly fixing that, because okay, his mum had been right about fresh air being good for you, but she definitely hadn't been right about fresh air being his supposed saviour and solution to his every problem.

Dan had a lot of problems, and the large majority of them made very little sense, even to him, but still he couldn't shake them, and like his crippling self-doubt, that was just... that.

So, he did all he could think to do, slipping his headphones into his ears and putting his music on shuffle as he found himself making his way down the street towards the woods, or vaguely so as he had no real regard for purpose or direction, where he was going and why. Perhaps this could just be a walk, people did just have walks, didn't they? Because he really wanted anything to do other than face his home and his mother and her expectations and his shitty artwork and the world’s worst sketch of a flower.

As he made it into the woods, hoping for some peace and quiet, he did indeed find that wish torn away from him, but perhaps in light of something better, as like magic, like God had willed it so, before him, smiling, stood Phil Lester with dark hair in his eyes and a welcoming look upon his face, because as little as he wanted to socialise with anyone, Phil was an exception. Phil would always be an exception.

-

Phil was smiling.

He did that a lot.

Dan noticed it all the time.

But the thing was, Phil only smiled so much when he was with Dan.

Phil was a much nicer, better, happier person in general when he was with Dan, and that had Dan painting up this mental image of Phil as a perfect person from what experiences he had with him: a mental image that wasn't exactly true, however, the same went for Dan.

Because even though Dan wasn't always smiling, he was always beautiful, and every word upon his tongue seemed so eloquently crafted and so unbelievably beautiful, so full of meaning, yet so simple, so easy: like there was nothing to it at all.

Phil saw the world in Dan, and he simply found himself shy to admit it, because Dan was the one with the sophisticated vocabulary and the power to express a plethora of deep and complex emotions and feelings in a selection of a few perfectly put together words, whereas Phil was the one with the the useless yet wonderfully brilliant facts about everything under the sun, and the beautiful smile and the never ending kindness.

Phil could tell him that on average, men begin to fall in love after three dates, and Phil could tell him that he had the most beautiful eyes, but he most certainly could not even consider piecing together the words that might explain that fluttering feeling in his heart when he looked at him: as if his heart itself had grown wings and was ready to fly right out of his chest and join Dan's across the room.

"Phil?" Dan asked, his voice shaking a little as he came over with a sudden rush of anxiety as he came to realise that Phil wasn't listening to me, and his first assumption was that he had to have done something wrong, and that everything was always his fault because it had to be that way and-

"Yeah? Sorry... I drifted off.. it's you, I... just... I'm tired," he smiled, leaning back against the tree the two were sat with their backs to, because there was this thing about crossing each other's path most days when they walked home after school and college, combined with the thing that they had.

This thing that kept Phil gazing hopelessly at Dan, and Dan's hands clamming up when he so much as even took in Phil's appearance, let alone the way he looked at him.

"Maybe you should get more sleep." Dan suggested, knowing far too well that it was hypocritical of him, but still, he was allowed to be concerned with Phil's wellbeing.

"Yeah, maybe I should, but maybe should you, taking selfies at three in the morning-"

"I couldn't sleep!-" Dan exclaimed, "what else was I supposed to do?"

"I did appreciate the selfies, though." Phil told him: a small smile upon his lips.

"I'm glad." Dan nearly choked on his own words.

"They're very artistic - I think everything about you is though. You're an artist, really. You're a work of art too-"

"Shut up-" Dan exclaimed, blushing, giving Phil a slight shove.

"Hey, you know what I mean, and you know it's true," Phil narrowed his eyes: desperate to not let Dan get away with putting himself down like that.

"Shut up..." Dan trailed off: his tone far less enthusiastic this time.

"I love your photography though." Phil told him for the seven hundredth time, when what he really meant to say was 'I love you', or maybe just fucking kiss him or something, but of course, Phil just couldn't bring himself to do that.

"You love everything, though," Dan sighed, "you have so much love in the world, for everything, you're so happy. You love everything."

"Yeah..." Phil trailed off, "well there are some things I love more than others." He smiled, looking directly at Dan.

Dan suddenly felt an uncontrollable urge to take off his school tie and undo the top button of his shirt, you know, just casually.

Phil felt an uncontrollable urge to stare at the extra skin it had revealed, you know, just casually.

And then suddenly Dan felt this horrible sickening feeling in his stomach that he was interpreting this all wrong, and oh god, why would anyone like him- why would anyone- god that's... he's just- just no, it wouldn't-

"I think Chris is going to die." Dan said, rather out of nowhere.

"Waht?" Phil exclaimed: horrified.

"No, not like actually die, but like emotionally die." Dan corrected himself, blushing a little.

"Oh, that does make more sense," Phil laughed it off, leaning closer to Dan, because it just felt... nice, as fucking awkward as that sounded: what they had was just... nice.

"The guy he likes, PJ, well, he, somehow, I don't know, somehow I was hanging out with him, because there's this girl, Cat, and somehow she sort of became my friend, and she and PJ are like best friends, people even thinking they're dating, but they're not dating because PJ's gay, and- that's not even it, he gave me his phone number and asked me to give it to Chris and I'm honestly scared to do it because Chris will literally have a heart attack and I don't want to be responsible for that and take him to hospital, and-" He choked on his own words, gasping for breath as he stopped.

Phil smiled a little, "tell him during maths or something so when he gets a heart attack you two get to go out of class."

"I never put you down as that kind of guy," Dan narrowed his eyes, "I thought you'd care about the school rules and being good-"

Phil shook his head, "come on, it's maths. Anyway, look, I'm sure he's going to be really happy and he's going to be so very happy with you if you perhaps emphasise the fact that you got this for him."

Dan sighed, "I don't know, I just- don't like... I mean, this makes me sound bad but I'm kind of scared he's going to be PJ's over clingy boyfriend and then I'll never see him again, because as much as I love Chris, he just wants to be popular and PJ can give him that and then he'd have new friends, and I'd-"

"But isn't PJ closeted? He's not going to be brandishing Chris as his overly clingy boyfriend publicly, he might not even introduce him to his friends. I know what closeted guys are like, it's not... it's not a good thing..."

Dan's eyes widened, "you dated a-..." His whole body frozen up at the notion of Phil having an ex-boyfriend.

"Yeah," Phil nodded, "it didn't go well."

"What was his name?"

"Sam."

"Oh," Dan nodded, shaking a little, "what was it like- what was he like?" Dan cringed, correcting himself as he realised the possible connotations of what he had said, and just how badly things could go if Phil interpreted them as such.

"He wasn't anything special" Phil said honestly; Phil who was always kind and always cared about other people said, like it was nothing, and Dan almost couldn't believe what was happening to him.

"Why not?" Dan asked, looking shocked, genuinely not having considered Phil thinking someone wasn't special as an actual possibility that could occur, which left him wondering what could become of them if things went wrong - if things actually went anywhere in the first place, of course, but he could so easily see himself as not special, and indeed see Phil as seeing himself as so, and as much as the possibility hurt him, there was no ignoring it in his mind.

"Okay," Phil let out a sigh, leaning into Dan, "he was kind of a dick, but I don't, I don't want to define people by their actions to a certain person at a certain point in time - people are so much more than that, don't you think?" Dan nodded because Phil happened to be right about a lot of things. "He was always thinking about himself and it really hurt me, but he had a lot of internalised issues with homophobia and then the whole getting his mind around actually accepting the fact that he was attracted to me as something normal and not this weird freak of nature, and his parents were pretty actively homophobic and they never liked me as it was because I was too 'alternative' - I was kind of going through my emo phase. It was just a bad relationship. He wasn't a bad person, he isn't, I don't think."

"You're so kind and so accepting." Dan sighed, "it's lovely, honestly, it's heartwarming."

"You're heartwarming," Phil told him before he could really process just what he had said: resulting in his cheeks turning a wonderful shade of scarlet in response. "I don't know why I said that," he told him, looking away.

"Because you're a nice person." Dan told him, "and you mean it, even though I don't believe it, you really mean it and I like that about you."

Phil smiled back at him, "you should believe it."

"I know I should, I just can't, I just have this... thing..." he trailed off, holding his words nervously between closed lips.

Phil looked at him, "you second guess yourself a lot." He told Dan what he already knew.

"I just overthink things and assume things will be a bigger deal than they actually are and like overthink and over exaggerate my flaws and basically ruin my life by worrying and I know I do this, but still I can't stop or ignore it, because it feels real, you know?" Dan let out a sigh, because he knew he sounded pathetic and that Phil didn't, and of course, wouldn't understand and that he was just speaking a load of shit and-

"Like... anxiety and stuff?" Phil asked: genuine concern in his eyes; the concern of another human being in regards to himself never failing to surprise Dan.

"Yeah... I guess." Dan nodded, blushing a little, "I just can't help it - it's kind of always been like this, and I just... I know don't, it's just this thing."

"Maybe you should talk to someone about that." Phil suggested, as calmly and kindly as possible in a typical Phil Lester kind of way.

"I am. I'm talking to you right now," Dan told him, laughing nervously.

"I know," Phil smiled at him, "I mean someone like a doctor-"

"No." Dan told him immediately, knowing that he'd just practically yelled at him, but still, he couldn't, he just... he hated doctors and the whole idea of hospitals and far too clean medical facilities. "I really don't want to." He told him: knowing Phil was looking at him oddly, desperate to get a grasp upon what he just failed to understand.

"Why not?" Phil just asked him plainly after a moment.

"I just... I just doctors make me nervous, a lot of things just make me nervous, and I just don't do them, and I, I know it's bad and it doesn't make sense - you don't need to tell me that, I just..." Dan trailed off, turning away as he felt himself feeling a bit sick.

"Dan..." Phil trailed off, putting his arm around him, "hey, hey it's okay, you don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to - I was just trying to help."

Dan hit him with a smile, "thank you," he let out a sigh and leaned into Phil, disregarding the implications of such an action because Phil made him feel safe and warm and most of all okay, and that mattered more than anything else.

And in his mind, that 'thank you' was uttered as a secretis, 'I think I might love you', but only in his mind, because in the world around him, they had this, and all in all far too much to lose.

And like with everything else, in fact, more than anything else Dan was scared, in fact, Dan was terrified.

-

****  
  



	10. brought to u by dans nails they revived both me and this fic from the dead

Growth and change was inevitable. It was something to rely on, something to cling to, as perhaps even if you did despise your current self and situation with every ounce of your being, there was always hope that one day you might wake up and you wouldn’t be that person anymore, or you wouldn’t feel those feelings quite so strongly anymore.

Today was not that day, not for Phil Lester, at least. But that wasn’t the point, because the moment in which he might run out of tomorrows, and even moments themselves, felt an awfully long way off. Things hadn’t always felt that way, though. If things still were a long way off perfect, he found he could definitely count on the fact that they had been much worse before. It was constant, like a reminder, cloaked all around him: the unavoidable fact that he would grow, and one day things would be perfectly okay.

He relinquished in the calm that brought him; it was a simple cure for the thoughts that had come along with it. Those thoughts were linked to memories, linked to his past, to the person he’d been when things hadn’t seemed quite so hopeful at all and the world had just seemed so much more dark. He knew he had much better ways to waste away the early morning light, to chase the sun up into sky. He might have even considered putting himself to good use, and taking a quick ten minutes to go over his notes from the day before, but that all seemed so much like a distant fantasy the moment he’d let certain thoughts catch up to him.

His bedroom lay illuminated slightly by the first rays of the sun, coupled with long shadows cast against the walls. He sat at his desk before his window, eyes lost out there on the horizon somewhere, as he let his mind grow thin and diluted, crumbling at the edges, as for a moment, even amidst the calm, he came to remember that today wasn’t the day. It felt like it would never be the day, as much as he fought to teach himself better. 

Tomorrow felt impossible, infinite, and in moments such as these, he was trapped, up inside his head, up inside the person he’d once been, inside the school he’d attended at fifteen, when flickering shades of grey had set into a full dark, impassable abyss of black. It wasn’t something he liked to think about, but it was a part of him, and the memories appeared rather hesitant to leave him be, even as the sun had begun to shine brighter than before. Those thoughts struck him even as he got better, and he knew they’d always make him weak, even if just for moments, even if just for small portions of time. He couldn’t see himself escaping them, not quite yet, but at the back of his mind, he hoped for the day when he could.

Truthfully, things had gotten much better; Phil was much more at ease with himself, he felt a great deal more comfortable in his own skin, he had friends, proper friends, he had fun, things felt better than they’d even been. And of course, he had Dan, in whatever way that might be, in whatever way the two of them might be connected, and whatever they might come to mean to one another someday.

College didn’t suck anywhere near as much as school had, but still, that didn’t put a stop to bad days, to his mind slipping back there, to empty mornings painted in dark shades of grey than usual. Still, he did his best to be happy, to keep a smile on his face, because he was Phil Lester and that was what he did; the past was behind him and he could take comfort in the fact that no bad things felt like they might get, that was just a fact that would not change.

He sat there and watched the sun rise to its full height in the sky. He watched the day begin and did all he could to put a smile on his face, reminding himself that a slow distant morning didn’t condemn an entire day. It was hard to believe the things he told himself sometimes, the things he pressed into his mind like an anthem of happiness and idyllicism, a life it seemed as if no one really lived, but he tried, he really did try. And no longer was he scared that he wouldn’t get there someday, as pathetic as it sounded, it really was true, but he came to regard Dan as proof as that, as a one ever luminescent piece of sunshine, shining starkly even against the darkest and greyest of skies.

The longer Phil’s day stretched on, the slightly more tolerable it became. Although hopeful that seemed, he guessed that it was true for most things, at least as they remained at a constant, the more practice you’d had in dealing with them, the easier it became. Still, it certainly wasn’t the worst of days, but it was by no means the best. He couldn’t help but yearn for something to fill in the gaps, something to plaster over gaping wounds, something to help him mend the great facade of it all.

That was something, or someone, an awful lot like Dan. But of course, from his college classroom, from the back corner, as he sat there next to his friend Sophia, paying nowhere near as much attention as he should have been, Dan seemed almost unreachable. And truthfully, Phil couldn’t help but feel guilty about bothering him. He knew that he shouldn’t, and he also knew that he really should have been paying attention, as he was in college for a reason, but neither of those things really seemed to sink in.

Instead he passed away the lesson by imagining scenarios in which he might meet up with Dan after school, and how every thought that had previously clouded his mind but have been miraculously washed away, and how everything might have instantly slotted back into place. However, Phil knew that was far from the truth and that as much as he wanted to, meeting up with Dan on a day like this was perhaps only the worst thing he could do. He didn’t much like people seeing a less bright side of him, and he’d found that especially applied to Dan. 

Perhaps he only wanted Dan to see the absolute best in him, as flawed of an idea that was, and as unhelpful as it could possibly be long term. Or perhaps he was just scared, scared of changing Dan’s perception of him, scared of having to deal with certain things, scared of their relationship changing more than it already had. Even without the extra pressure, they were hovering precariously over the line between friends and something more, and really the more Phil found himself thinking about things, it just began to seem all the more likely that they might just float off away from that line entirely, to become someone else, to become someone new, together. Phil wasn’t quite sure what he thought of that idea as of yet.

Truthfully, Phil didn’t want to talk about his problems, he didn’t want to talk like Dan would want him to, as he would want for Dan to do, if their situations were reversed. That was the thing, Dan would ask, because Dan would notice, and Dan would care; the two hadn’t known each other awfully long and as a result couldn’t have gotten to known each other awfully well, but it was that which Phil was entirely sure of. And Phil just wasn’t quite prepared to lay everything out again, to relive the morning, the full force of it all, the worst times, the person he’d been when he couldn’t even count on himself.

In the end, Phil managed to stop thinking about Dan. It was hard but he managed it after a while. He decided that it was something like for the best, and that he wasn’t helping matters at all. With that he came to conclude that really the only solution to his problems, the only way in which he could fix his god awful mess of a day was just to get away from everything, from everyone, from his own head even, if he could, and get home as quickly as possible, to go bury his head under his covers and close his eyes. He’d stay there, irrelevant of whether he reached sleep or not, until the very moment the world had turned the right way up again.

He was certain that had to be the only way to deal with it. He spent the rest of his time in class faking confidence in his plan, almost going as far as to dare to applaud himself in coming up with it. The truth however, lay in the fact that he wished for anything else, anything he could call an alternative. 

Deep down, he wished he could talk to Dan, deep down, he wished they could talk about things, and talk about everything; he just wished he was brave enough for that. But needless to say, there would be a day, out there, waiting for him, and one day that day would be today.

-

It was PJ’s idea: a quaint little coffee shop on the outskirts of town, fronted on one of the lesser frequented streets. Part of him wished he could have said that he’d chosen the place on the basis of its coffee alone, and truth be told, he was awfully fond of it, along with their blueberry muffins, but largely it had been down to the location, to the privacy of it all, combined with the jittery look in Chris’ eyes whenever they spent time together in public.

PJ knew that there were things they could talk about, and things Chris needed help with, things that PJ couldn’t dream to fix by himself, but he did his best to push those things away from the forefront of his mind, and to enjoy their time together as it was. After all, it certainly beat awkward conversations over text messages that spanned until far too early in the morning, when PJ’s eyes felt as if they were going to fall right out of their sockets if he didn’t go to bed soon. They had texted practically every available minute of everyday since Dan had finally given Chris his phone number, and the air between the two of them had cleared. PJ wasn’t entirely sure what it was that had happened, and he didn’t want to pry into other people’s business, but still it had him curious, despite the fact that it had proved itself to be insignificant enough to be easily brushed over.

To PJ’s surprise, the moment he made it to the coffee shop, he found Chris sat in a booth to the furthest corner of the room, the one that was the least visible from the windows and the street outside, with two cups of coffee placed on the table. PJ couldn’t help but find it awfully sweet, and found that the gesture helped him overlook the seating choice, and the forever anxious look in Chris’ eyes that provided him with a million reasons why this was all a bad idea. Perhaps that had been Chris’ idea all along; perhaps PJ shouldn’t dwell on it, perhaps PJ shouldn’t have even organised this in the first place, whatever it was, because there wasn’t a place on earth in which Chris would refer to it with the word ‘date’ aloud. PJ tried to pretend that didn’t mean as much to him as it did. He tried to focus on the gesture, and not all that lay behind it, perhaps just for the sake of peace of mind. There was no use in driving himself mad as he stood there in that coffeeshop, after all.

“Hey.” Chris looked up from his phone as PJ slid into the booth opposite him. The two shared a momentary look that seemed to hold more worth than it should have as the silence seemed to creep in around them like fog, clinging desperately to everything it could, and smothering them completely.

“Hey.” PJ found that he had a million better things to say, but each was accompanied with a million different reasons why those words should never leave his lips. For a moment, he wondered if he should disregard reason entirely, to cut everything down to the truth, to face Chris with an entirely honest look in his eyes and hope only the best to come from it. The thing was however, that he was scared: scared beyond measure, scared like Chris was. The two feared entirely different things, of course, but they shared the fear, they shared the same look in their eyes and tried to bring themselves to their senses.

“Thanks for the coffee.” PJ continued, doing all he could to fill in the silence, because suddenly their conversation was nowhere near as easy as it had been over text. PJ distinctly remembered it all feeling very natural, like the two of them fit together perfectly, as if it had been in design, but no such evidence of that could be found in the darkest back corner of the coffee shop, as Chris Kendall stared hopefully across the booth at him.

“You’re welcome.” He supplied, for the sake of it, for courtesies, for all that bullshit and nonsense that neither of them could care awfully much for. And then Chris snapped.

The smile he’d plastered across his face began to crack, slowly at first, and then all at once until it was ripped entirely from his face. In its place lay a frown, directed down at the table, unable to hold PJ’s gaze as a dozen different emotions crossed his face all in the space of no more than ten seconds.

In all honesty, PJ found that he just didn’t have the faintest idea of what it was that he should do. He’d always reckoned that he was good with words, with people, with combining the two even, but that seemed to hold no merit anymore. It was as he began to stitch together the most pathetic excuse for small talk that Chris opened his lips to speak, clawing the silence away from them in one clear swipe.

“This scares me. All of this.” Chris was yet to meet PJ’s gaze as he spoke. Truthfully, PJ didn’t much like it, but he knew that he couldn’t ask for the world. Instead, he just sat there, patient, hopeful, with the most genuine smile he could muster in that moment. “Whatever this is, the two of us, you know? What is this, PJ? What does all of this  _ mean _ ?” Chris fell into a forced kind of self-deprecating laugh that certainly didn’t fail in making PJ just that little bit uneasy.

It took PJ a moment before it really struck him that Chris was actually searching for an answer and not just speaking rhetorically. “I… I don’t really  _ know _ .” PJ knew that he was being all but helpful in that moment, but there was little else he could do when every word that left his lips was the truth. “I guess it means whatever you want it to. Whatever we want it to, you know?” He did his best to meet Chris with a smile. To his credit, Chris did try to return it, he just wasn’t very successful.

Chris found much more success in biting his lip, in tearing his gaze down to the coffee shop floor and pondering everything for a moment or two. Once he found that he’d done so sufficiently, he pulled his gaze back up to the table, back up to PJ, back up to his eyes, and took another moment to prepare himself to speak. He tried not to think about how pretty PJ’s eyes were; he reckoned that such thoughts just really weren’t helping matters. The thing was however, that there was just something in PJ’s eyes that seemed to refused to be ignored. Chris wondered for a moment whether the thing was really in PJ’s eyes at all, or whether it was something set deep inside of him.

“I’m not entirely sure that I know what I want that to be.” Chris admitted, breaking into an awkward smile, and finding that conversation seemed to slowly ease up around the two of them. “I mean… I just… I  _ want _ to know, I feel like I need to know, but I haven’t got the slightest idea myself.”

“So you want me to tell you?” PJ did his best to fill in the blanks, meeting Chris with a confused stare. Chris shrugged, again as if he wasn’t very sure of that either. “I don’t think I can do that.” PJ admitted, biting down at his lip, unable to stop himself from feeling just that little bit guilty. There was a part of him that wanted to be the answer to every one of Chris’ questions, the one to fix it all, to make sense of every broken piece, but he knew that could serve to be little more than a fantasy. Things didn’t work like that, not in the real world.

Chris nodded, swallowing hard, as if biting back a whole world of emotions that he was just terrified to reveal. “I know.” He shook his head, meeting PJ’s gaze. “I’m not asking you to. I should never- that’s just… just… unfair. I’ll get there in the end, of course, I will, I mean… we’ll get there in the end. We’ll have to, won’t we, eventually?”

PJ nodded slowly, watching Chris’ hands, visible from beneath the table, shaking clearly in his lap. Part of him wanted to say something, even if just in reassurance, in hope that it might rectify the situation somewhat, but he figured that perhaps now was just not the best time. After all, things seemed fragile enough as they were, but he found that there was something deep inside him that was perhaps even  _ irrationally _ desperate to make things work.

“I guess we will.” PJ smiled, pulling his gaze away from Chris’ hands, turning inside to his coffee, burying his face and thoughts behind the mug.

-

For half an hour or so after college Phil sat around doing, well, really nothing at all. He reckoned he owed it to himself; the break from it all, and could only cling to a hope that it just might do some good in the end. He needed to clear his head, but nothing seemed to be working, the world seeming to be forever persistent that it simply wouldn’t fade out and leave him be.

He felt a little stupid about it but he ended up talking to Susan. A ferret of all things, but there was always a part of him inside that had insisted that she could hear him and even begin to understand what he was saying to her. Nevertheless, it was oddly therapeutic, and Phil wasn’t in the mood to question at all, as long as no one else was there to judge him for it, as he sat down before Susan’s cage and meeted her with a smile warmer than he had managed all day.

“Hey.” He addressed her calmly, watching the way her eyes brightened up a little as she caught sight of him. “I’ve had kind of a bad day.” He continued to explain, watching Susan scurry curiously around her cage to seat herself as close to Phil as she physically could.

He sat in silence for a moment more, watching the way her eyes met him with what he might have even called an understanding. He really would have liked to believe that she could understand him, that she could have all the answers and that she wouldn’t judge him but that hardly seemed very likely at all. 

Phil let out a sigh and reached for the bag of her food, slowly opening her cage and reaching inside to refill her food bowl. As Phil extended his arm down into the cage, Susan moved quickly towards him and pressed her face gently into the side of his wrist. More than likely, she was just eager to eat and was pleased than he was there to feed her, but for a moment Phil let himself entertain the possibility that this was Susan’s way of showing him that she cared.

“There you go.” He smiled down at her, slowly pulling his hand away enough to allow her to reach her food. Oddly enough, however, Susan chose to ignore her food entirely and instead turned to Phil, following his hand as it retreated back out of the cage.

Phil thought for a moment, lowering his fingers back down to brush against her fur. “Do you want to come out?” He asked her, watching how her movements grew more eager, almost as if she had listened and managed to perfectly understand. He took this as a yes, and reached in with his other hand in order to safely lift her out of her cage and down onto the floor next to him.

The moment her feet touched the carpet, Susan began to move around excitedly, finding a great thrill in the simple surroundings of the room outside her cage. Phil watched as she reached up towards the bag of food he’d left propped up against the cage. She struggled to reach the contents even as she stood up on her hind legs; the gesture was awfully cute, and Phil took a moment to appreciate just how cute she was, before he reached for a handful of dried food and extended his palm out towards Susan, who carefully began to eat out of his hand. 

Phil really couldn’t stop the smile that quickly spread across his face. “So you  _ were _ hungry after all.” He noted, glancing back at the bowl of food in her cage which she’d left without even a bat of an eyelash… if ferrets even had eyelashes, which Phil came to realise was something that he just wasn’t entirely sure of at all.

Susan didn’t look up to even acknowledge the sound made by his words, instead continuing to empty the food out of his palm, reaching her hands up into his palm as she stretched to reach pieces of food that lay closer to his wrist.

“Can’t blame you for wanting to get out of your cage, though, can I?” Phil smiled, reaching out with his free hand and gently stroking down the fur on her back. “I’m sorry I haven’t taken you outside for a while now, it rained horribly, and then I had a lot of coursework, I mean, I still have a lot of coursework, and then I’m just not feeling all that up to it right now. Sorry about that. I’ll take you out as soon as I can, I promise you. This weekend by the latest. We’ll go out to those woods you like. Those woods I like. Maybe I’ll even ask Dan to come.” 

Phil’s words faded out in silence as Susan finished eating and began to look up at him. There was a certain look in her eyes that Phil very much knew to be the simple natural curiosity of a ferret, but perhaps in that moment seemed to have the look of so much more.

“Would you like that?” Phil asked her, not entirely sure why when he thought about it, knowing that it was unlikely that he could possibly get much of a response, but just talking to Susan out loud like she could listen and understand was just calming in ways he couldn’t quite comprehend. “Do you like Dan?” He continued to ask, his voice shaking slightly. “Because I like Dan. I really,  _ really _ like him. So I really hope you do too.”

-

By around five that afternoon Phil had finally gathered enough motivation to turn and even look at all the work he had left to do, and all the notes he had yet to read over and even begin to make any sort of sense of. He’d sat at his desk, with all his work spread out in front of him, utterly distracted, and listening more to the ‘study playlist’, the one that he’d spent more time making than he had actually studying, than anything else.

He just couldn’t concentrate, and the longer he went on without getting anything of value done, the worse Phil couldn’t help but feel about himself. The dreadful weight of guilt in his chest began to grow and swell as the minutes ticked by, and a part of Phil just couldn’t wait until it grew to such a size that it consumed him whole. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about all this work he hadn’t done.

In the end he pinned his lack of concentration down to one simple thing - a lack of caffeine. He came to conclude very firmly and wholeheartedly that it was the one true answer and the real solution to all of his problems, and therefore, the only way that he could possibly get some work done was if he got up and left all his work, grabbed his phone and a jacket and made his way into town to get a coffee. Because of course, all the coffee and tea in his kitchen just wouldn’t do; he was relying on the walk and the fresh air to get the full effect, after all.

If he was being honest with himself, his main motivation for going and getting a coffee was down to the fact that if he went outside he had to take his phone with him, because after all, what if he got into a car crash or was kidnapped, or fell into a ditch and broke both of his legs, he’d need to call for help. It wasn’t his health and safety he was so concerned with however, it was his need to text Dan, which had been something he’d put off for the most of the day due to the mood he’d been in, and had then forbade himself from doing for a while in the hopes that it might have helped him get anything done.

Phil glanced down at his phone as he made it out of his house, having yelled something vague to his mum about grabbing a coffee, which she’d looked displeased with, knowing just as well as Phil did that he had still had work to complete for an impending deadline, but he’d rushed out of her sight before she had much of an opportunity to get a word in. He found that he had three new messages from Dan, and several others from his friends that he deemed less important just for that moment.

He opened Dan’s messages immediately, mentally cursing himself for pretty much ignoring him all day, although he was confident that Dan would understand why he’d done so if he just explained it to him.

_ ‘Hey we haven’t spoken yet today’ _

_ ‘How was your day? I hope it wasn’t as bad as mine’ _

_ ‘Not that mine was particularly bad no one’s died or anything’ _

Phil stopped for a moment, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him at the notion of the fact that he’d left Dan alone through what he’d described as a bad day. To Phil, it really didn’t matter if anyone had died or not, if anything serious had actually happened, he just didn’t like to entertain the possibility of Dan being upset at all, for whatever reason.

Phil took a moment to gather his thoughts before sending an overdue response.

_ ‘Hey I’m sorry I’ve been trying to study… emphasis on trying because I’ve really not got anything done. Do you want to talk about your day? I’m sorry that it was bad’ _

He wasn’t sure whether Dan was still looking at his phone or not, and therefore as to whether he should hold his phone in his hands, awaiting a reply, or whether just to check it later, and keep this conversation as another excuse to prolong his coursework further.

However, it was before Phil had finished worrying about it all that Dan had replied: 

_ ‘It’s nothing really I don’t want to bother you. You should go back to studying’ _

As much as Phil knew that Dan was right he really didn’t want to listen to him, and found himself desperate to waste away as much time messaging him as was physically possible.

Phil typed out a response quickly, perhaps even too quickly, if that was possibly a thing he had to worry about:

_ ‘No don’t worry about it I’ve gone out to get coffee anyway. Tell me about your day!!!!’ _

Phil hoped that the four exclamation marks he’d used did enough to convey just how insistent he was upon it. What he certainly hoped however was that they definitely didn’t creep Dan out somehow. Thankfully, he found that was nothing he had to worry about as Dan’s reply came quickly after.

_ ‘It was just kind of dull and Chris wouldn’t shut up about PJ and I think I really should be used to that by now but I’m really not’ _

Phil found a smile creeping onto his face as he read Dan’s message. He couldn’t help but feel slightly sorry for him but imagined that his best friend moping on about the boy he fancied definitely couldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

_ ‘Ah I’m sorry. I didn’t have the best day either if that makes you feel better but we should meet up at some point this week. I’ve missed you’ _

Phil waited for what seemed like forever for a response, growing ever closer to his nearest coffeeshop, despite the physical effort he’d put into walking as slowly as was humanly possible. Really, he knew he wasn’t helping himself here at all, but he was just so very desperate to lie around doing very little all day besides texting Dan, and that just looked like it wasn’t going to change any time soon.

Phil soon found himself looking up at the coffeeshop door, ready to put his phone back into his pocket, but was stopped momentarily by two messages from Dan sent in quick succession.

_ ‘I’m sorry about your day and I’m here if you want to talk about it but we really should meet up whenever I don’t really have anything else on’ _

_ ‘I missed you too’ _

Phil simply couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he stepped inside the coffeeshop. He reckoned he must have looked awfully ridiculous walking in there with an enormous grin fixed firmly upon his face, but thankfully, the coffee shop only had a few customers, most of which were in the queue in front of him. He tried his best to wipe the stupid, almost smug look from his face as he glanced around the coffee shop, setting his gaze on the three occupied tables towards the back of the room; there were two girls who seemed to be paying much more attention to their phones than each other, and a mother with two young children, one of them still in a pushchair, and then to the furthest corner of the room were two teenage boys, hidden away in the corner of a booth.

Phil didn’t offer much attention to any of the people around him, and instead fixed his gaze to the menu board up on the wall behind the barista. He scanned it for a few minutes, unsure as to just what type of drink it was that he should get. He found that for some reason the decision seemed to hold all the weight in the world, when of course, it really didn’t, maybe Phil just cared a little too much about coffee.

Once he’d chosen his drink, Phil found his attention drawn away by a certain voice from the back of the coffee shop. At first, he couldn’t quite make out as to what it was that had grabbed his attention, but as he kept his ears open, absent mindedly listening, something became rather clear to him.

“PJ, stop it!” There was a shriek from the furthest booth which then descended into a mess of giggles. Immediately, the name had Phil’s attention, and as much as there could easily be a hundred people in this town called PJ, his mind appeared to be rather certain as to just which one it had to be: Dan’s PJ, well, Chris’ PJ, really.

Realistically, Phil knew that it was just his own bias, like how you tended to associate certain names with traits held by the people you knew by those names. Things like that which you just couldn’t help, things that were a part of being human really. He did his best to brush it off and not eavesdrop on someone else’s conversation as that was probably quite rude to do.

He turned away from them and ordered his coffee, keeping his attention focused solely on the barista as she made his drink for him - a butterscotch latte with cream, because Phil definitely had a sweet tooth. However, once he’d paid and taken the drink into his hand, ready to walk back home again, he couldn’t help but catch another line of conversation from the booth at the back of the room.

“Chris, you  _ are _ , come on, don’t be an idiot.” This time it was another voice, the one Phil presumed to be PJ, leaving the other one to be Chris, and together, they had to be… Chris and PJ. 

Phil stopped dead for a moment, desperate to convince himself that there were a million people called Chris and PJ in the world who just happened to be on what looked like a date right now, but he couldn’t help but pull his gaze to the back of the room, catching a glimpse of the two of them before he forced himself to leave the coffee shop. The two of them looked to be awfully close in that corner, leaned over the table as if they were about to kiss each other, which was really not something Phil wanted to stay around to creepily stare at.

The moment Phil made it out onto the street, he took his coffee in one hand and retrieved his phone from his pocket with the other, opened his text messages, and struggled to one handedly send one to Dan.

_ ‘I think I just saw Chris and PJ’ _

He bit his lip, awaiting Dan’s response. He wasn’t entirely sure why this seemed to mean so much to him, but it was a little bit of Dan’s world, a bit of Dan’s life, which admittedly, he couldn’t help but view as uncomfortably distant and detached from him and his own life. Then of course, Chris and PJ were two people who Phil had just heard so much about after all.

Dan’s response came within the minute that followed:

_ ‘What?’ _

Phil had perhaps expected a response with a bit more substance to it but he gathered that perhaps Dan was just as confused as he was. Well, perhaps not confused, although he had been at first, it was more so  _ unexpected _ , really. Perhaps that was a better word.

_ ‘Like on a date’ _

Phil used his second message to clarify what he’d said before.

_ ‘At least I think it was a date but they looked pretty close’ _

Dan didn’t reply for a good minute after that. Phil wasn’t sure he’d even been quite so impatient in his life, because suddenly, Dan Howell’s opinion just meant everything to him.

_ ‘A date??? Jesus christ a fucking date they went on a fucking date???’ _

Phil cracked a smile as he read Dan’s message, replying in perhaps a tenth of the time Dan had taken. Although he did imagine that Dan might have been freaking out just a little bit, so he cut him some slack on the basis of that.

_ ‘Well its not like I went up to them and asked but idk it looked like it’ _

Phil let out a sigh, taking a sip of his coffee as he turned onto the road that lead to his; a part of him hated how short the walk to his nearest coffeeshop really was. That part of him was the very part that wanted to procrastinate any and all work he had until the day he was physically forced to do it. Phil concluded that perhaps that wasn’t the wisest part of his brain after all.

Dan finally replied after whatever had been nearly three minutes since Phil’s last message. Phil couldn’t deny that each wait had his insides curling up.

_ ‘Fucking hell I just wow and Chris is probably gonna freak out if I even bring it up but im his friend like shouldnt I talk to him about this? Shouldn’t he talk to me about this??’ _

Phil could feel the distress in Dan’s words and found that for a moment he really struggled to find the words to say. They came in the end though, thankfully.

_ ‘Let him talk to you about it in his own time. Im sure its nothing personal against you. He’s your best friend after all’ _

Dan took barely twenty seconds to respond this time around:

_ ‘But what if he hates me? I cant help feeling like he hates me? I mean why wouldn’t he hate me im a terrible friend and im a terrible fucking person’ _

Phil’s chest seemed to hollow out as he ran Dan’s words through his head, knowing wholeheartedly that not a single one of them could be true. He just wished Dan could be as sure of that as he was. Dan deserved better than this, so much better than this. He deserved to know that he was better than this, and the fact that he didn’t hurt Phil in ways he failed to articulate. Phil could only wish that his response did the situation justice, and simply hope for the best.

_ ‘Dan thats not true. He doesn’t hate you. Youre a wonderful friend and you are a wonderful person. I mean that. I just wish you could see it too’ _

Dan’s response was almost immediate, but this time around it wasn’t something that Phil was pleased to see at all.

_ ‘How would you know that? You're just trying to make me feel better I mean if I wasn’t a horrible friend why would I even be questioning if my best friend hated me like who the fuck thinks that? Horrible terrible friends who can't even trust their so called best friend’ _

Phil physically shook his head to himself as he read Dan’s message, wishing desperately that he could convince Dan of the perfect kind of person he viewed him as, and the wonderful kind of person he really was. He couldn’t imagine that one text message would be enough, but still, he tried, because that was Phil Lester did, try his best and hope that one day things might go his way.

_ ‘I know you Dan Howell and I know thats not true. Youre beautiful and youre wonderful. Everyone doubts themselves sometimes, but those times don't have to mean anything’ _

Dan’s response was delayed once more, and a great deal shorter than Phil had expected, but despite that, the words displayed upon his screen were finally ones he was thankful to read.

_ ‘Thank you’ _

-

Dan decided the best course of action to take was just one in which he refused to think about anything. He let the evening grow dark around him, the night set in and push all of his problems away: the people he remained hesitant to confront, and the whole of feelings he didn’t want anything to do with, let alone to deal with. The thing was, he was a mess, but at the very least he was well enough aware of it.

He stretched out across his best, having locked himself safely up in his bedroom, where he definitely wouldn’t even have to do as much as look at anyone until morning. He reckoned that was for the best. He considered texting Phil again, although he was pretty confident that Phil didn’t deserve to be troubled with the mess of feelings that had exploded inside of his head. In fact, Dan was pretty confident that Phil shouldn’t have to deal with him at all, but despite that Phil seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to him.

Phil Lester was someone that Dan was just yet to understand. He couldn’t possibly even begin to imagine what it was that Phil saw in him. Gorgeous, intelligent, funny, wonderful, older Phil, who could do much better and hang around with much better people. Dan just wasn’t stupid enough to question him on it, because whatever it was, whatever they had, he suddenly found that he was deathly afraid of losing it.

Despite his better judgement, he chose to speak to Phil again in the end, although he’d grown tired, perhaps too tired to text, and found himself with a perfect excuse to call him instead. Although, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, more than anything, he just missed Phil’s voice; there was something about it that calmed Dan immensely, and he suddenly found himself desperate to cling to that.

“Hey Dan.” Phil picked up the phone almost instantly, leaving Dan to breathe a sigh of relief as he fell onto his back in the center of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with his phone pressed to his ear.

“Hey Phil.” He responded, stretching his legs out across the bed, doing his best to bury them amongst his blankets, lowkey wishing he could bury his life’s troubles just as easily. “I’m tired.” He admitted, letting himself closing his eyes, focusing only on Phil’s voice.

Phil let out a chuckle, vaguely amused by it all. Although, if he was being honest with himself, he found Dan endearing more than anything else. “Do you want me to read you a bedtime story or something?”

“No, Phil, I’m not a child.” Dan made it clear that he was always in the mood for excessive amounts of sarcasm, irrelevant of how tired he happened to be.

“If you  _ insist _ .” Phil couldn’t help but sound a little hurt. “I do read Susan one sometimes though.”

“You read your  _ ferret _ a bedtime story?” Dan couldn’t quite believe it, but then again, this was Phil Lester, who was just generally absolutely unbelievable.

“I do!” Phil raised his voice a little in self defence. “And it’s lovely. She really likes it. I do it sometimes when I’m up at like four in the morning and it’s like my brain’s forgotten how to sleep. Does your brain ever get like that, like you literally just erased sleeping from your memory?”

“Not right now.” Dan mumbled, burying his head into his pillow and setting his phone down next to him so he could still hear Phil. “Definitely not right now.” He confirmed, feeling as if he could pass out that very moment. In his defence, Phil had an awfully relaxing voice, and he just hadn’t had the best of days - really, it had been tiresome at best.

“I’m practically wide awake.” Phil told him, lowering his voice slightly, hoping it might help Dan drift off to sleep. “I wish I could fall asleep right now, I think that’d be nice, but I just can’t stop thinking about all the work I’ve got to do, but I think talking to you is a good distraction.”

“You should get that work done, Phil.” Dan’s voice was just about as stern as he could manage considering how close he found himself to sleep.

“Not until you’ve fallen asleep, not until then.” Phil let out a laugh, hearing Dan yawn through the phone. “Sounds like it won’t be long, though.”

“Mmm…” Dan decided that this was the point that he was no longer capable of words or conversation and turned off that part of his brain entirely.

“I hope you sleep well, Dan.” Phil began to talk, monologuing to pass the time, speaking slowly and gently to fill the space until Dan fell asleep. “I hope if you fall asleep to my voice it doesn’t mean that it’s boring. I mean, I hope I haven’t got a boring voice, I could probably live with that, I mean it’s not the  _ worst _ thing in the world, but it’s not exactly a good thing either. You haven’t got a boring voice though, I love your voice, Dan, and don’t you dare wake up just to tell me otherwise. You’re perfect the way you are, you know? I just wish one day you’d believe that, because you deserve to be happy and comfortable with yourself. I wish more than anything that you were.”

Phil paused for a moment or two, waiting to see if Dan would respond, but received nothing but silence through the phone. He didn’t check to see if Dan was awake or not though, instead choosing to waste away more of his time, deciding that it wasn’t nearly so much of a waste if he put it towards ensuring that Dan got a good night’s sleep.

“I hope you have nice dreams. I hope you dream about…” Phil paused for a moment, thinking of what it was that Dan should dream of. “Susan and me, and you, when we go on a walk together, except maybe that might be a bit boring. Something cool happens too, like maybe the Jonas Brothers erupt out of the ground and play a concert for us and maybe Nick Jonas and Susan elope and have a wedding. And we’d be bridesmaids or something. Or is that too weird? That’s probably too weird I’m sorry.” Phil let out a laugh, doing his best to muffle it to ensure that Dan didn’t wake up. “Are you asleep?”

Phil waited for a good minute for Dan to give him any sort of response or sign that he wasn’t quite yet awake, but all he received was silence, a peaceful kind of calming silence shared between them for a while. Phil did his best to vanish all thoughts of Nick Jonas marrying his ferret from his head before he continued.

“I guess you are asleep.” He lowered his voice enough to ensure that Dan stayed that way. “Goodnight, Dan, sweet dreams.” Phil paused for a moment, hovering his finger above the hang up button; he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it, not quite yet, however.

Instead, Phil remained there for a few minutes, sharing a silence with Dan, and finding himself with an odd feeling that seemed to suggest that might have meant something. Eventually he figured out what it was, what stopped him from ending the call and leaving Dan to sleep: the words left stuck at the back of his mind.

Phil lowered his voice further, so it was barely audible at all, letting the words out, a secret for his ears only, but he was comfortable that Dan was soundly asleep by now and that the worst thing that could happen was that his words would manifest in Dan’s dreams somehow. As weird as the result of that might be, Phil found himself prepared to take the chance.

“Hey…” He let out a sigh, his words quieter than quiet, the softest of all whispers. “I think I… love you, Dan… I… I… really think I do…” Phil bit his lip; a part of him regretted even letting himself utter those words aloud. 

“Goodnight Dan.” He added softly, finally hanging up the call, leaving himself to lie in bed alone and think about those words and just what they’d meant for far too long.

-


	11. this is a really long chapter im sorry

Part of Dan didn’t want to speak to Chris at all. Ever again, or something ridiculous like that. That part of Dan remained unheard as the overwhelming bubbling mess of anxiety in the pit of his stomach grew and rose up through his chest, flooding his lungs and lodging in his throat until he couldn’t breathe at all. It was an issue that simply refused to leave him alone, despite the fact that in any other state of mind it wouldn’t have been an issue at all, but Dan couldn’t ask for the world and expect to receive it, just laid out before him on a silver platter, could he?

Dan also distinctly remembered Phil telling him perhaps not to talk to Chris about it, to leave him be, to accept that they were still friends, and sometimes friends, even best friends, did things, maybe even important things, without telling the other, and it didn’t mean a thing at all. Perhaps even things like falling for a boy from college, who had a ferret, called Susan, who he took on walks sometimes. 

After all, Phil was something that Dan had very much avoided telling Chris about. He took a moment to consider just why he’d done that, and found that more than anything, he was scared: scared of Chris’ reaction, scared of what he might think of him, what he might think of Phil, and what he might think inside. Dan was scared that Chris would think he was replacing him, which really wasn’t the case; what he had with Phil was just something different entirely. It took him a moment, but eventually the truth hit him like a slap across the face; there was hardly much difference between him and Phil, and Chris and PJ. He then came to wonder if Chris had just the very same concerns, and just the very same reasons why he’d left it all unspoken.

Dan reckoned he should have been content with that; it should have calmed whatever mess had been raging wild inside of him, and left him able to brush everything off and get along with his day, and his life, and not attach an entire world of meaning to what Chris and PJ had been doing in that coffeeshop a few days ago. The thing was however that Dan could do just about anything but calm down about something he’d already gotten worked up about; the thoughts would refuse to leave his head, and even with as much of a peace of mind as he should surely need, he couldn’t help but stare at Chris almost obsessively as he waited for him to put his coat away in his locker before they trailed off to Geography.

He found himself vaguely aware of Cat stood at the other side of Chris, talking to the both of them about something, something that had to be mostly uninteresting considering the fact that Dan physically couldn’t bring himself to tune in her voice. It wasn’t that he had anything against Cat, or her talking to him and Chris, or anything like that, really it was just a result of the anxiety that continued to burn up inside his chest, from his windpipe, down through his lungs and ribcage, and right down into the pit of his stomach. He found it impossible to focus on anything really, anything besides Chris, and PJ, and Phil, and the mess that continued to circle his head until he could only make even less sense of it that he had managed to in the first place.

It was by this point that he came to accept the fact that he had to say  _ something _ to Chris; he reckoned it might kill him if he didn’t, after all, it honestly felt like his insides were going to explode under the pressure of this all. The hardest part of it all was that he just wasn’t at all sure as to  _ what _ it was that he was going to say, how he was going to say it, and what he might expect Chris’ reaction to be. Part of Dan still wasn’t quite sure as to what kind of reaction he wanted in result of all of this; he just wanted everything to fade away, and go make sense of itself at the back of his mind somewhere, somewhere he didn’t have to deal with it, somewhere that left him to rest.

What Dan was sure of was the fact that it really wouldn’t be appropriate to casually bring it all up when Cat was still around, so he found himself using her presence as a simple excuse to delay finally sorting his mess of feelings out. He reckoned that was probably one of those things he just shouldn’t ever tell her. It wasn’t that he imagined that she might complicate the situation, or make things worse for Chris, for the both of them, as after all, she was really close with PJ, and it was unlikely that she’d want to mess up something that so directly involved him. Dan found that it was just the fact that it was unlikely that Chris even wanted him involved in this, let alone Cat, as after all, he’d hidden it from him in the first place. Dan still wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that either.

Sometimes he just wished he could turn off the part of his brain that controlled his feelings. He reckoned that would make things easier, that he’d suddenly have so much less to deal with, but he knew it wouldn’t be practical in the end; there were some feelings you had to have, and some feelings that Dan didn’t ever want to miss out on, not for anything in the world. Those feelings happened to be the feelings he felt right in the center of his chest when he was with Phil, when his voice had guided him off to sleep, those feelings made him feel like suddenly everything was right in the world.

“Dan?” Chris’ voice suddenly cut into his thoughts, breaking everything right into two as he forced himself to focus back onto the real world, onto Chris, locker now closed, and Cat, suddenly nowhere to been seen. Dan tried to let the realisation of what that meant dawn upon him as slowly as possible, but soon enough, he found that there were just some things that you couldn’t stop, no matter how hard you tried.

“Chris!” Dan forced his lips up into a smile, doing all he could to feign even the slightest hint of optimism as he tried to straighten his words out, struggling to even form the most basic of sentences; he wasn’t sure why, but suddenly the whole world seemed to be resting on this, and the fact that no matter how much he knew that he should have, Dan couldn’t bring himself to leave it all alone.

“Are you alright?” Chris stopped for a moment, leaning closer to properly analyse Dan’s face, having quickly noticed the faltering in his smile, and the look in his eyes that contradicted it entirely, coupled with the wavering in his voice, and the way it was all too quiet and all too strained all at the same time.

“Uhh…” Dan found that he really didn’t know quite what to say in response to that question: somehow honestly just didn’t seem like the best idea at that moment in time. 

“What’s wrong?” Chris didn’t give him enough time to properly lie to him, it was both something Dan was grateful for, and something Dan couldn’t help but despise. Chris was a good friend, but perhaps too much of a good friend in that moment, when Dan just wanted everything to leave him alone, so he could think clearly just for a second, and perhaps focusing in on the nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him that this was all a bad idea.

But he couldn't quite focus in on it in time. That was just his luck, after all. “What’s going on with you and PJ? I’m just- I mean, it’s your business, and you don’t have to tell me absolutely everything that happens in your life, but I thought that this was important, and that you told me important things, and I just feel weird, and I know it doesn’t make sense but I can’t shake this feeling that you’re replacing me somehow, and I just can’t talk myself out of it, so please don’t think I’m being weird even though I am being weird, please just… I don’t know… talk to me. What’s going on, please?” 

Dan found himself choking on his own words by the time he’d finished, having spat them out as fast as physically possible for the most of his explanation, perhaps even to the extent that Chris hadn’t been able to get a grasp of what he’d been saying at all, but Dan decided right then that no matter if that was true, there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was saying that all again: he genuinely didn’t think he had it in him.

“Me and… PJ…?” Chris stammered out, having taken a moment of silence for himself as he did his best to make sense of the mess of words and worry that Dan had just thrown at him. As much as he immediately didn’t want to have any kind of honest discussion involving what it was that was going on between him and PJ, he found himself forced to respect the fact that Dan honestly looked like he was on the verge of having a breakdown, or a panic attack or something. Chris ignored the fact that he just couldn’t figure out why for the life of him, and instead hoped that he could fix this all somehow.

“Yeah…” Dan let out a sigh, relief flooding his face afterwards to such an extent that made Chris wonder if he’d forgotten to breathe entirely for the whole of the past minute. “Look, this sounds weird, but my friend, Phil, he… he saw you two together in this coffeeshop like a few days ago, and I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it all since, because he seemed pretty convinced from just looking at the two of you that you were on a date, and I just… suddenly feel like you don’t care about me anymore, even though there was no reason you should have told me at all, I just get into a mess sometimes, a lot of the time… you know?”

“A date…?” Chris stammered out, his throat turning dry and his mouth following suit. “I…” Suddenly he found his brain turning to mush as he struggled to deal with the word ‘date’ and what it meant, and that they’d been seen, and that it had been someone’s first impression, so anyone could think of that, and-... and suddenly Chris was in a worse state than Dan, which really didn’t bode well for either of them at all.

“Chris?” Dan reached out for his friend, noticing how he had suddenly turned pale all over, looking almost as if he was about to pass out, and really Dan was even less well equipped to deal with that kind of situation. “You don’t look so good, do you-”

Dan didn’t get much of a chance to properly finish his sentence before Chris turned away from him, making a dash for the boys’ toilets at the far end of the corridor. Dan stood there frozen for a good minute afterwards, not entirely sure what to do at all, not even sure what kind of situation he found himself suddenly thrown into dealing with. All he really knew was that Phil had been right about letting Chris talk to him about it in his own time, but of course, Dan could never fucking listen could he? Admittedly, Dan hadn’t been able to help himself, it had all rested on the anxiety he’d built up over it, but still, he couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault.

As much as Dan figured that Chris had rushed to the toilets to throw up, considering how sickly he’d looked, and as much as Dan really couldn’t stand the smell of sick, or ill people, or when he thought about it, people in general, he made his way down the corridor, desperate to chase after Chris, because despite everything else, Chris was still his best friend.

When Dan pushed the toilets door open, however, he found himself faced with something else entirely. Thankfully, the smell of sick was entirely absent from the room, but Chris had locked himself in the furthest cubicle from the door, and the sounds of his sobs were unavoidably loud. At the very least, Dan found that the room was empty beside the two of them, but still, that did very little to help the problem he faced in not having the slightest idea of what it was that he should even begin to say to Chris, as after all, from the way this all looked, it just looked an awful lot like it was all his fault.

“Chris…?” He almost didn’t dare to break the silence with a tentative call for his friend, stepping further into the bathroom and glancing around nervously. Dan met his own reflection in one of the bathroom mirrors and grimaced; he looked even more of a mess than he felt - he hadn’t even thought that was possible, but here he was with his reflection slowly blinking back at himself.

“Look…” Chris finally began formulate his sobs into something that made any kind of sense to Dan, who couldn’t help but struggle to properly grasp the whole situation. “Dan, just go to class, alright? I’m going to make you late anyway.”

Dan paused for a moment, knowing that Chris was right, that he probably should go to class, but Dan knew that he just couldn’t leave Chris alone like this, because despite what he might claim, this just didn’t seem like the kind of thing that would surely just go away by itself.

“I’m not  _ leaving _ you.” Dan insisted, turning to face the cubicle Chris had locked himself inside. “Talk to me, look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought anything up, I just- This is my fault, isn’t it? I’m  _ sorry _ , Chris, please, just, unlock the cubicle, talk to me, please. Nothing can get better if you just lock yourself away, can it?”

Chris scoffed, Dan’s words seeming not to have any effect upon him at all. In fact, he seemed to just brush them off entirely. “And you’re going to have all the answers for me just out there, aren’t you? Yeah, that sounds like bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Dan knew that Chris was right about that at the very least, and that he certainly didn’t have it within himself to lie and tell him otherwise. Instead he just let out a sigh, still just as insistent that he wouldn’t leave Chris alone in here, but just with so much less of an idea about what he was going to do about it.

“Please talk to me, Chris.” Dan’s voice took on a rather pathetic kind of pleading tone; it was a hopeless last ditch attempt at success and they were both well aware of it. Chris didn’t even give him the honour of a response this time around. Instead, the two waited in silence for a good five minutes, hoping that the other might suddenly say everything they needed to hear.

Eventually, however, Dan gave up. He took a long sigh, faced his reflection in the mirror once more, before making his way to the bathroom door. From the furthest cubicle, Chris listened to each of his footsteps hitting the floor and echoing around the room and remained silent until the very last second, as the bathroom door was swung open and let out a horrific kind of creak.

“Dan…” Chris’ voice seeped out nervously into the room. It caught Dan by surprise; he quickly turned back to the cubicle Chris remained in - a part of him had hoped that Chris might have left it at least, but he really couldn’t just stand there and ask for everything. 

“Chris?” Dan closed the bathroom door, and stepped back towards the cubicle, hoping with every he had that the reason Chris had called him back was because he was finally ready to say what he had to, to answer the questions Dan had made the mistake of throwing at him so carelessly.

“Don’t go.” Chris told him, his voice softer than before, leaving Dan hanging awkwardly in front of the sinks, watching Chris’ cubicle intently, hoping that something might actually happen. It had to, hadn’t it? He reckoned that Chris couldn’t have just insisted that he stayed for the hell of it.

“I’m not going.” Dan chose to fill the silence again, finding it crushing as it swarmed around the room in a hazy, incomprehensible mess. “Not until you want me to.”

“Thank you.” Chris let out a sigh, reminding himself of how much of a good friend Dan was, and how much he really didn’t deserve him, sticking around for him like this, even with the knowledge that Chris really was being nothing but a prat. As he came to remind himself of that he finally found it within himself to step out of the cubicle, to face Dan, regardless of how much a mess he was sure that he looked; he didn’t quite dare to turn to the mirrors to check.

Dan met him with the kind of warm, welcoming smile that Chris was adamant that he didn’t deserve, especially considering the fact that he’d hidden away inside a toilet cubicle for nearly ten minutes now. “You alright?” Dan bothered to ask him, although Chris was sure that he was already very well aware of the answer.

Chris grimaced, biting his lip for a moment as he felt the truth crawling back up from the pit of his stomach and into the back of his throat; he knew then that he’d either have to spit it out and deal with the consequences or let himself choke on it. “So…” He began, quickly coming to a decision; it wasn’t one that he particularly liked, but one that he forced himself just to deal with, as after all, he couldn’t keep dealing with all this mess by himself anymore.

“So?” Dan repeated, offering Chris another placid smile as he glanced up to meet his gaze. Chris went to the lengths of returning the gesture, but solely just to calm the air and appease whatever part of Dan had given him such a smile in the first place.

“Me and PJ… I just… it’s all kind of complicated, because it was so much easier to deal with when I thought I was straight, because I was straight so nothing could be there, so that was it, but I’m  _ not _ straight, god, I’m really  _ not _ straight, aren’t I? I’m like the most bisexual bisexual ever to bisexual, and I thought that maybe figuring things out would make things easier, but it’s just made everything worse, because now I have to think about my sexuality, and like, what people think of that, like properly what people would do if I had a boyfriend or anything, and then coming out to people, and I honestly feel like I could be sick right now. And then, that’s not it because if I’m bisexual that means what I feel for PJ can be a crush, because I just outruled that when I thought I was straight, and even though I was constantly struggling to lie to myself that was easier, because I didn’t have to worry about me and PJ and what everything means and how… how to even deal with that, and how things might progress, and how not to fuck everything up, and then I have to keep all of this inside my head without exploding, because it’s not like this is the kind of thing I can just run around telling anyone about, because that would only make things  _ worse _ .”

Chris was pretty sure he couldn’t even breathe by the time he’d finished, and Dan had to admit that honestly the amount of words he’d spoken in such a short space of time was impressive, but of course, that really wasn’t the point here at all. Instead, Dan stood there, rather dumbfounded and staring at Chris as his brain right out refused to focus. 

It had always been so plainly obvious, this was something that Dan had  _ always _ known, because of course Chris had a crush on PJ, that had always been obvious to him ever since Chris had first laid eyes upon him, but suddenly the moment that Chris had become aware of it all and Dan felt that he was required to help deal with it, Dan felt like he didn’t have the slightest idea about Chris’ sexuality at all.

“I… uhh…” He began, forcing any kind of sound from his lips, as he began to imagine that the silence might have been driving Chris a little mad. “I’m sorry for- I don’t know being so… casual about it, and I just bringing things up and upsetting you, but Chris, honestly it’s fine, and I kind of suspected this all along and you don’t have to worry about hiding any of it from me, I promise you.” 

Despite being incredibly homosexual himself, Dan suddenly found that he had just so very little idea of what he was supposed to say to someone who’d just come out to him. He thought it would have been much simpler, as all he needed to do was think of what he would want someone to say to him, but it was as if he didn't have the slightest idea what he might have wanted that to be. He just hoped what he had manage to spit out was enough to make Chris feel just a little bit better, because he was flat out of ideas otherwise.

“It’s fine.” Chris pulled his lips up into an awkward kind of nervous smile. “I was just… I don’t  _ scared _ , because I mean, like… gay people get killed, like people get killed for being gay, and suddenly it’s like I’m aware that could happen to me for something I can't help, like I didn’t  _ ask _ for this, and I just, suddenly it’s like I’m  _ scared _ of straight people or something.” Chris’ words faded out into an awkward half forced laughter. “I know you’re my best friend, Dan, but I’m just… everything’s weird, really.”

“Chris…” Dan let out a sigh, dropping his eyes to the floor as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. There was something at the back of his throat, desperate to be said, words that needed to be spoken, but the very same kind of fear prevalent all the way through Dan’s body. He knew for certain, however, that Chris would likely feel much more comfortable with it all if Dan told him the truth, and so, Dan forced himself to think about his best friend over his own petty fears.

“Yeah?” Chris looked up, trying to hold Dan’s gaze as the silence closed back in on them again. “What is it?”

Dan let out a sigh, stepping back and taking a moment to himself, before concluding that he’d just have to spit it out, and that it just couldn’t be anywhere near as difficult as he kept imagining that it might be. “Chris, look… I’m like… really not straight either.”

Chris stared at him, eyes wide and disbelieving for what felt like hours. Dan even began to worry that Chris had frozen in place or something. Eventually, however, the silence faded out and Chris forced the corners of his lips up into a grimace.

“That’s not funny, Dan.” Chris turned away, looking as if he was biting back a hell of a lot more than he was saying. Dan didn’t even what to imagine what that was as he struggled to grasp just what it was that was actually happening.

“What?” Dan contorted his face into an expression of confusion, slowly coming to grips with what Chris was saying, with what seemed to be  _ actually _ happening, somehow. “Chris, I’m not!” Dan stammered, his tone insistent, and even growing a little desperate. “I’m not  _ joking _ , Chris, I’m being serious. Do you really  _ not _ believe me?”

“Yeah, Dan, I really  _ believe _ you.” Chris rolled his eyes, stepping past Dan and towards the door. “Yeah, I get it, you’re trying to make me feel better by being not alone, but just shut the fuck up alright, you just don’t know what it’s like and you’re  _ really _ not helping-”

“Chris!” Dan forced his voice out into a cry, but it was helpless and it fell upon uninterested ears as Chris pushed the bathroom door open and left Dan stood there with very little idea of what he was supposed to think or do anymore.

He turned to his reflection in the mirror, forcing himself to remain decently composed as he stared himself down and tried to pick out what it was that had ensured that Chris didn’t believe him, what it was about him that just wasn’t  _ gay enough _ . The idea made him sick to his stomach, and despite how pathetic it really all did sound he couldn’t avoid the fact that he was seconds away from breaking down into tears in that very classroom, just as Chris had done minutes before.

-

Chris had avoided Dan for the remainder of the day. Dan had hoped that things would have gone back to normal quickly enough, considering the fact that Chris himself had made more than his fair share of offensive jokes that had ended up upsetting Dan, as that was still what Chris insisted upon viewing this all as. Honestly, even the thought of that made Dan sick. He knew that this wasn’t about him, that this all shouldn’t be about him, because Chris had finally found the courage to come out to him and suddenly he was sulking because Chris had pretty much rejected his own sexuality. Part of him didn’t even feel as if he had much of a right to be upset, and Dan really just didn’t know what to think about that.

Dan wasn’t sure what it was going to take to get things back to normal, or to even just get Chris to look at him like a normal human being again, because really this wasn’t how he’d imagined that he might eventually come out to his best friend, somehow this was an entirely new worst case scenario that Dan hadn’t even fathomed. Dan had imagined that Chris might have rejected him on the basis of his homosexuality, and not because Chris thought he was  _ lying _ to him. It was the very idea that Chris thought that lying about his sexuality was something Dan would do, it was that very idea that made Dan fully sick to his stomach.

He came to conclude that anything he could possibly say to Chris that day would just be brushed off and ignored, and could only do more harm than good, so Dan spent the rest of the day away from Chris, smiling only vague whenever anyone spoke to him, sitting down next to Cat at lunch and paying just about as much attention to her as he had earlier. Instead, he found his eyes fixated across the cafeteria, to the furthest back corner where Chris and PJ were getting up and making their way outside. Watching them made him sick. He wasn’t entirely sure why. He didn’t like the idea that it did, but he just had no idea as to what he could possibly do about it.

Somehow he managed to get through all his classes that day, paying just about no attention to anything that was said by anyone, which really wasn’t anyway to properly make use of time at school but Dan had never claimed that he had any sort of proper grasp on his life. After all, he was so much more concerned with the horribly ridiculous mess he’d managed to land himself in now. Honestly, the more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t quite believe it, but of course, whether or not he believed that it was really happening didn’t help matters at all. It would continue to exist regardless of whether or not he wanted it to; he could do nothing about those thoughts up in Chris’ head as he sat around in silence, but he reckoned that speaking to him again could only make things worse.

Dan had just about snapped by the very moment he made it out of the school gates, breathing in gasp of fresh air as he pushed through a crowd of younger students, doing all he could to get as far away from school as quickly as possible. He felt his mind physically crumbling to pieces as he walked, quickening his pace as much as he could without running the risk of getting out of breath and looking like the unfit idiot he was. 

Once he turned around a street corner, the same thoughts racing back and forth through his head, and only increasing in volume with each rotation, he finally came to a somewhat temporary, somewhat solution. In fact, it was hardly a solution at all, it was just the only thing Dan could really think of to do, and that was calling Phil.

Surprisingly, Phil picked up almost instantly; Dan had almost been counting on a tense thirty seconds that he’d spend unsure as to whether Phil would eventually pick up or not, and whether he’d have to figure out just what it was that he could do instead, because with Chris now hating his guts, there wasn’t exactly a long list of friends Dan could call instead.

“Hey Dan.” Phil’s voice was perhaps unbelievably cheery; it felt like the last thing Dan had expected to hear, but perhaps the thing he needed most. “How was school?” Phil continued to ask, his overly peppy tone remaining intact.

Dan let out a sigh, hoping that might communicate something about how atrociously bad things had gone to Phil, because as much as he had called Phil to talk about things, he found that when it actually came to  _ talking _ about them, Dan would rather do anything else in the world.

“Bad?” Phil’s voice wavered slightly as he did his best to dissect the emotion behind that one sigh. “I’m sorry about that.” He did his best to comfort Dan, hoping that he might provide more for him to go on than just a disgruntled sounding sigh - it wouldn’t be much of a conversation otherwise.

“I’ve really fucked up my friendship with Chris.” Dan announced, his tone perhaps a little overdramatic, but Dan felt that it suited his mood. “Like properly fucked it up. Done forever. He  _ hates _ me, and I’ve got no idea what I can do about it, so I just have to fucking deal with the fact that he wants me dead, and I can’t because he’s still my best friend, but he’s-...” Dan faltered as he came to a sudden realisation. “He’s not.” He swallowed hard, biting down on his lip.

“Dan…” Phil began, attempting his best calming voice, hoping that it might do something to help with Dan’s current mood. Admittedly, however, Phil really didn’t know how he could help at all, and Dan sounded almost scarily upset, and Phil couldn’t help but feel just a little out of his depth. Still that didn’t stop him from trying, because he cared about Dan, after all.

“Phil.” Dan returned, his voice a great deal softer than it had been before. Phil hoped that served as a sign that the calming voice was working somewhat.

“What happened?” Phil asked, praying that Dan wouldn’t breakdown into an emotional mess of profanities and near tears as he had before, and that he might actually be able to get a grasp of what the issue actually was. “Tell me everything from the start. Slowly and calmly.” 

“I…” Dan stammered, unsure how to even begin, how to tell Phil that this had all started because he’d done  _ exactly _ what Phil had advised him not to. He was unsure how Phil could possibly take that, but fuck it, Dan wasn’t sure he could possibly manage to fuck things up more than he had already. The universe couldn’t possibly hate him that much, could it? Somehow Dan found himself intrigued to find out.

“How did it start?” Phil asked a more direct question, hoping that Dan might find it easier to explain things like that.

“Uhh…” Dan took a deep breath, telling himself that Phil just wasn’t the kind of person to hate him out of nowhere. Although Dan had thought that Chris wasn’t that kind of person either, and then the world had gone entirely against that, perhaps even just to spite him.

Finally Dan decided that he’d just have to go for it; that he couldn’t keep it inside forever, as he hadn’t the slightest idea about how he was possibly going to solve this, and Phil was pretty much his only hope.

“I asked Chris about him and PJ, about how you saw them together on that date the other day. I  _ know _ you told me not to, to let him tell me in his own time, and you were probably right, but I just… I just  _ had _ to. You know… like honestly… it might sound like bullshit but it was driving me crazy, I was getting so much anxiety about it all, I just  _ had _ to know. I started getting scared that Chris was hiding it from me because he didn’t like me or trust me, or was replacing me and didn’t want me to find out or something.” Dan let out a sigh, holding out for a moment to gauge Phil’s reaction so far.

“Chris wouldn’t do that to you.” Phil assured him, although that sounded like a whole lot of bullshit to Dan after what had just happened. Still, Phil was trying, and Dan guessed he had to appreciate that at the very least.

“Yeah? Wouldn’t he? I don’t know.” Dan snapped, his tone harsher than he had intended. “Well, funny that, because I came out to him and he thought I was lying. He thought I was playing some sort of fucking sick joke on him and now he hates me. He literally fucking hates me. All I wanted to do was make him feel more comfortable talking about him and PJ by telling him that I wasn’t straight either, but that fucked up, didn’t it?”

Phil found that he really just didn’t know what to say to that at all. “He what?” His words came out rather like a gasp, as he struggled to find the words to say.

“He hates me, he actually hates me. I mean that would be a fucking dick move, wouldn’t it? Your best friend coming out to you and then you pretending to be gay as a joke because you think that would make him feel better. That’s fucking sick. I can’t believe he’d think that I’d do that. That me being such a dickhead was more likely than me actually being gay-”

“Maybe he just didn’t know how to react, Dan-” Phil attempted to calm the situation a little, hoping that he might help even in the slightest, but it quickly became obvious that he hadn’t helped at all.

“Do I look  _ straight _ , Phil? Do I actually look so straight that being gay just doesn’t look like a possibility at all? Do I act that straight? Would you assume I’m straight? Honestly, Phil, did you think I was straight at first?” Dan’s tone grew louder and angrier, and Phil couldn’t help but feel pressured into choosing a response; unsure how he could remain truthful but tell Dan what he needed to hear.

“Dan, come on, you know sexuality isn’t based on your looks or how you act. It’s how you’re born, it’s nothing to do with your personality and appearance.” Phil spoke slowly and calmly, hoping that his words might have more of an impact upon Dan that way. “It’s like, eye colour more than anything else, you’re just born like that, it’s not like only sporty people have blue eyes or something, like not all people who look a certain way are gay, or that you have to look or act a certain way to be gay.”

“Well maybe you just have to look and act a certain way for your best friend to  _ believe _ that you’re gay.” Dan snapped, but he did sound considerably less angry, so Phil had to accept that as progress.

“You don’t have to do anything. Chris did something wrong here, he should know not to assume your sexuality. He’ll have to come around soon enough, you know? To realise that you’re not joking.” Phil hoped that Dan would continue to listen to him, hoping too that Chris wouldn’t be enough of an idiot not to forgive Dan eventually.

“Yeah…” Dan let out a sigh, suddenly sounding more sad than anything else. “I guess. I mean, we’ve only really got each other, I mean, he’s got PJ, but still, we’ve been best friends for years. That can’t end over this, can it?”

“I’m sure it won’t.” Phil promised him, thinking for a moment, before continuing. “Hey, do you maybe want to come over so I can help take your mind off this?”

For the first time that day, Dan’s lips curled up into a smile.

“Are you sure this isn’t just an excuse for you to put off your coursework?” Dan raised his eyebrows, sounding a little unsure.

“Come on, Dan, you being upset is far more important to me than coursework.” Phil had to admit that partly Dan had been right in his assumption, but he reckoned that this was the best kind of procrastination if there ever was one.

“Alright.” Dan grinned, quickening his pace slightly.

-

Dan wasn’t sure as to what  _ exactly _ it was, but something about being with Phil, about the calm, still atmosphere of his house, about the way they were sat entirely too close together, that made him calm again. It almost seemed to wash everything else away completely, perhaps even as if it had never been there. 

Dan didn’t know what it was that he should think, of his feelings, of the current situation, of himself, of Phil, of the two of them together, and whatever that could possibly mean. He decided however that it was just all too much for one day, having possibly permanently fucked up his friendship with Chris already. He found that he just didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if he lost whatever this was, whatever he and Phil had, whatever it was that was keeping a smile on his face somehow, even amidst the mess of everything else.

They’d put some shitty TV on in the background, something mindless to serve as background noise, as a meaningless comfort, to replace the jagged silence of the room with a steady hum. There was no question about the fact that neither Dan nor Phil were actually paying the TV any sort of real attention, of course it wasn’t as if they’d put it on with the intention that they would. The TV only served as white noise to fill the space, to fill the silence, to fill the time, to fill the moments until they finally began to talk again. To talk about things, properly, not the absent-minded small talk they had seen before, but something with a bit more meaning, with more of a capacity to hurt, with more of a capacity to break things right in two.

He reckoned that if he just didn’t think about it then he wouldn’t have to admit it to himself - that he was scared. Scared of properly facing Phil with it all, with saying everything on his mind; the thoughts that remained, the things that Phil’s presence hadn’t quite managed to wash away.

As Dan began to lose himself deep in thought, Phil shuffled over slightly towards Dan, as if deciding that his end of the sofa they’d sat down on just wasn’t going to cut it anymore. That wasn’t the case at all, though; it was so much less about him and so much more about Dan - about brushing their hands past each other, even just for a moment, for it was a gesture that said thousands and thousands of words.

“Do you feel better now?” Phil pulled his gaze up to meet Dan’s, asking what was probably just about the last question on his mind, despite the fact that it had been the thing that had brought them here, that had even orchestrated their current situation. 

“Yeah.” Dan’s response was much more of a mumble than anything else, but it was accompanied with a smile enough to put Phil’s mind at ease. Then for a moment the room faded back out into the quiet, into the low hum of the TV, and the slight ambient sounds of the early evening coming in from the open window.

“It’s just…” Dan opened his mouth again, almost instantly regretting that he’d ever said anything, but suddenly it was far too late, and Phil had turned back to him with wide, concerned eyes. “Just…” He attempted to continue, stumbling over his words as his cheeks heated up to a vibrant shade of red.

“Just?” Phil offered a prompt for him to continue, hoping that might have helped things somewhat, somehow, in any sort of way. It didn’t seem to do so, but it did succeed in filling the gaps of conversation, and in turn, giving Dan time, time to think, time to run words and ideas around his head until they eventually made some kind of sense.

“I keep thinking about my sexuality.” Dan admitted, immediately pulling his eyes away from Phil and instead directly towards the carpeted floor. “Like… obsessively.” He continued, not giving Phil enough time to give him a response, for the simple fact that he couldn’t help but worry over what it might be. Instead he chose to ramble on, to fill the space, to prolong the inevitable as much as he could. After all, Dan was just full of bad ideas that day. “I just keep thinking about it, about who I am, and about how it’s so hidden, and it shouldn’t be so hidden. There’s no reason for that at all, not logically, but I can come up with a million nonsensical ones on the spot. I think that’s because I’m scared. I’m scared of what people will think of me, to the point where I obsess over it, to the point where it consumes me, and not just about my sexuality, but about other things too. I just don’t know how to let go of that, even if I wanted to do, I don’t think I even know how anymore. And it’s so long that I’ve been like that so it’s like that I don’t even know who I really am, like where my actual personality ends and the person I’ve made myself up to be, the person others can approve of, begins. And that’s bad, that’s fucked up, and I want to try and escape that. I don’t want to be so scared anymore, but it seems… almost impossible.”

Phil could only provide silence for a while after Dan had spoken, thoughts running quickly around his head as he attempted to put together all that Dan had said and begin to properly understand it, possibly in the hope of beginning to help him with it all.

“I’m sorry.” Dan quickly apologised, perhaps just to fill the space, perhaps in the hope that it could help him, could help everything somehow. He reckoned that it was just the placebo effect, but it really did feel like it had.

Phil looked up and offered him a calming smile, letting out a sigh as he properly turned to face Dan; the both of them had now firmly tuned the TV out in the background - little more than a steady source of white noise to blanket the silence, to pad things out, to cushion the sharp edges of unpleasantly honest conversation.

“It’s not impossible.” Phil began, finding that he wasn’t at all sure how it was that he should start, and how he should end. The more he thought about it, he realised that he had very little idea about the whole of it, but still, he tried, he tried to answer Dan’s questions, to make him feel just that little bit better, hoping that it could somehow make a difference in the grand scheme of things.

“Almost impossible.” Dan corrected him, a small smile hugging his lips, as he began to realise how ridiculous it was that he had sounded, but he found himself stubborn despite it: clinging desperately to the raw emotional wailing mess he’d thrown up for the two of them to deal with.

“It’s not even almost impossible. It’s… It’s probable. It’s easier than you’d ever think.” Phil assured him, reaching forward for Dan’s arm, hoping to convey some form of comfort in that gesture, but instead finding his hand slipping down to Dan’s. 

The thing was that they both expected the other to flinch and move away, but neither of them did. Instead they sat there, hands together, content there, finding the comfort in a different gesture instead.

“How?” Dan asked, pulling his gaze up and away from their hands, instead directing it across the room, to the open window, settling on the last glimpses of blue sky outside. “How do I do it then? It’s not that I don’t believe you that it’s easier than I think, I just physically can’t see it myself.”

The both of them chose to fill the space with words, with a sudden burst of conversation, rather than addressing the issue of their hands, that perhaps wasn’t nearly as much of an issue as they had both presumed it to be. The issue was just perhaps what that could possibly mean, and just what they were ever going to have the courage to do about it.

“It’s definitely easier said than done, but, I mean, just…  _ stop _ . It’s like you have the voice in your head that says what  _ you _ want to do, and then the ones that argue against it, the ones that have the opinions you think other people will have. You’ve just got to pay attention to all of the voices and pick them out, pick out where the opinions are really coming from, and listen to the one that makes you happy. Do what makes you happy, everything else comes second.”

Dan held Phil’s eyes for an extended moment, the world seeming to fade out into halftime around them, and the two seeming to lean forever closer, as if compelled together like magnets, like opposite poles, drawn together in ways they could barely explain.

And then everything stopped. Like a thud, like a sudden realisation: hearts pounding in chests as they suddenly caught up to the moment.

“I don’t know what makes me happy.” Dan had to admit; he struggled with the reality of it, but there was no way around the fact that it just was the truth. “That sounds pathetic, that sounds fucking ridiculous, I really do know, but- I just… I don’t know. I’m so caught up in worrying about every single little stupid thing that I’ve sort of lost myself in all of that.”

“Dan…” Phil let out a shocked kind of gasp, not entirely sure what to say or what to think, but desperately wishing to convey some form of comfort - someway to make everything just even a little bit better.

Dan shook his head, not wanting to hear how Phil might continue, not wanting to deal with the apologies and wishes and good natured mess that meant so much to Phil but so little to him. He did try to appreciate it, he did try to appreciate Phil, but his head just didn’t work that way.

“It’s alright.” He assured him, looking away, not wanting to endure the mess of holding his gaze. “Look… thank you.” He turned back to Phil, but focused instead on their hands, still intertwined, and not on Phil’s eyes, as beautiful and captivating as they were.

“What for?” Phil asked, following Dan’s gaze down to their hands, suddenly feeling all the blood in his body rushing right to his fingertips.

“For being you, for caring so much about me, and letting me be here with you. The thing is that, sometimes, in certain situations, with certain people… situations like this with people like you… I… I don’t feel as bad. Everything fades out for a bit, and I can think and relax properly, no matter what was on my mind before.” Dan let out a sigh, trying desperately to focus on his words and not the emotions he kept hidden away behind them. “Thank you so much for that.”

Dan finally pulled his gaze up to meet Phil’s, and the two shared a look as if they were both about to cry, like the situation was so raw and fragile that it might snap in two right before them, but that they both trusted one another with it, that they shared that trust without question, and that it meant more than anything ever had before.

And just like that, they sat in peace, in warm smiles, in comforting gazes, and their hands kept together as the last glimpses of afternoon faded out into the evening.

-

It was late by the time Dan got home. The exact time didn’t really matter so much. It was just the fact it was late; far too late for it to be an appropriate time for him to get home. He did try not to think about just what his mum would say to him the very moment he got back inside, but there was nothing to prove that his attempts had been in any way successful.

The walk home from Phil’s really wasn’t long at all, but every minute seemed to add up as the weight of it all seemed to crush down upon Dan. He knew that his mum was hardly going to be pleased about it, and it was perhaps just one too many things that he could possibly fathom dealing with that day. Still, there was very much just nothing he could do about it anymore, so he walked home as quickly as he could, eyes darting nervously around the darkened streets as he tried not to fixate on anything in particular, fearing that his anxiety would grow and mutate out of nowhere, and within seconds he would be choking on the very thoughts that he needed to keep out of his head at all costs.

Dan couldn’t help but let the door slam behind him as he stepped inside, grimacing as the sound resonated throughout the house, only to be met by a sudden sound of movement from the living room. He found himself fixed to the spot, motionless, able to do little more than kick his shoes off his feet, as he waited until the sounds of movement turned into footsteps. Then soon enough, those footsteps turned into the figure of his mother, appearing through the doorway, and coming to face him in the dim hallway light.

No one said anything for quite a time. Or at least it seemed that way to Dan, despite the fact that it just really wasn’t likely to be very much more than a minute or two at maximum. Still, the silence seemed to physically cut into him, leaving words and excuses spinning manically around his head: forever just that little way out of reach, leaving a definite feeling of dread and hopelessness sink right to the pit of his stomach.

“Where have you been?” She finally asked, reaching for the light switch, and illuminating the small room with a warm golden kind of light that Dan had to squint to properly adjust to, having just walked home in the dark as well. 

“My friend’s house.” Dan admitted, hanging his head low. It  _ was _ the truth, but Dan couldn’t feel that there could be any way around how upset his mum had to be with him. He’d just have to stand there, silent, waiting, letting her hurl every word at him that she wanted to. He wished they could bounce off him like he was made entirely of steel, but the reality of it was so far from that.

“Which friend?” She continued, with an odd kind of look in her eyes, perhaps assuming that if it would have been Chris, Dan would have just used his name. And as far as she was aware, her son didn’t really have other friends, at least not ones that he was close to.

“Phil.” Dan knew there was little point in lying to her; he doubted it could possibly improve the situation at all, or at least to the extent that it might actually matter. “He’s called Phil. He doesn’t live far. We just… lost track of time.”

“Okay…” Her reply was slow and contemplative, as if turning Dan’s words over in her head for perhaps the hundredth time. “I’m just a bit worried about you.” She admitted, pulling her gaze up to meet her son’s.

“Worried?” Dan retorted, his face seeming to tell that it could be nothing more than an entirely ridiculous idea. “Why?” He prompted her, watching the way his mother’s face suddenly changed as she forced to come to more of an explanation.

“I just…” She began, her voice significantly quieter than it had been before. “I just feel like something’s off with you. Like there’s something important going on that you just won’t tell me about. It’s worrying me, and I don’t know you’re just going to tell me that there’s nothing going on, regardless of whether or not there is, but let me just tell you that it won’t make me feel better at all, so please if you’re going to, don’t bother.”

The two fell back into silence for a while longer, and Dan found himself contemplating something that did indeed appear entirely ridiculous, but the thing was just he just couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, and he just couldn’t explain what attracted him to certain things and ideas, but once it had happened, he just couldn’t stop it.

There was a strong feeling in Dan’s chest, like a desperate last hope to be able to prove something to himself, or to prove something to his mother even. He reckoned it wasn’t specifically to her, but to prove it to  _ someone _ , to set something off in his chest that just might make him feel the way he felt he ought to, that just might lead him down the path of becoming the person he imagined that he was at the best of times.

“There is something.” He told her; his voice very quiet and very slow, but still definitely there. Perhaps it wasn’t even so much about someone hearing, but much more so about just speaking the words aloud, speaking them and being believed, being accepted, or just speaking them and not being afraid.

“There is…?” She trailed off, a nervous kind of look in her eyes seeming to make out that perhaps the idea of there actually being something off could only worsen the situation.

“I have… this…  _ thing _ .” He began, pulling his eyes away from her. “I’m not sure how to define it because it’s like a crush, but I don’t know, I don’t know if it exactly is a crush, but it sort of feels like it, like it feels similar, it’s something like that, and I just… I just can’t properly figure it out or how to deal with it, and it’s kind of driving me mad.”

Dan’s mum let out a sigh of relief, seeming to have suspected much worse to come of her suspicions. She met her son with a smile and tried to offer her best advice. “I think maybe you should be honest with her, about how you feel, talk things out together. I know it seems like the hardest thing in the world, but I’m sure you’ll be able to figure things out better together.”

“Yeah…” Dan let out a sigh, biting down on his lip hard enough to make it bleed a little. He felt entirely too reckless, just letting the first words that came to his head slip his lips, feeling himself make thousands of bad decisions, but just letting them happen, letting it all happen, because perhaps there were just some things that he couldn’t keep inside himself forever. “That’s the thing though, ‘she’ isn’t a girl.” 

He could only hope that his mum would at least believe him, that someone would believe him, that his feelings and sexuality could possibly be valid enough for that. Deep down, he knew that they were valid, because they were his honest feelings and after all, that was all they needed to be, but he was just so very sure of the fact that what Chris had said to him was just never going to leave him alone. At least not properly, even if did ebb away and fade, he reckoned that it just might dwell at the back of his mind forever.

“Oh…” His mum took a sharp intake of breath, holding his gaze for a moment more, struggling to find just what it was that she should say exactly. “You should talk to  _ him _ then.”

Dan was very much astounded at how simple it had seemed to be. In fact, it almost didn’t feel real, and a part of him really did struggle to respond. “I… uhh… yeah… I’m trying, I just… I don’t really know what to say.”

She met him with a smile. “Just say what’s on your mind. Just be honest. I’m sure he loves you. Who couldn’t?”

And then suddenly, in what he had deemed to be the least likely of all scenarios, Dan found himself hugging his mum under the hallway light, let the night darker outside around them, the rest of the world seeming entirely cut off from the two of them as they stood together, entwined in a moment that really did seem to mean the world.

It was simple, but it was just enough to give Dan the kind of hope that began to allow him to physically see things getting better, to finally come to visualise solutions to the mess around his head, which was definitely something he had struggled with before. Slowly but surely, things would get better, and it was this that finally gave him trust in that.

-


	12. things might get just that little bit gay

Dan awoke to an incessant buzzing. It was far too early, too early for him to form proper thoughts, too early for him even to open his eyes, but the buzzing sound quickly grew louder and perhaps even more insistent, as it continued to demand his attention, irrelevant of whether he was in much of a state to give it or not.

It took him a full minute before he’d properly forced his eyes open, wincing as bright morning light flooded his eyes; it was just far too bright and far too early. He rolled over in bed, cursing the world and everything in it as he came to discover the source of the buzzing that had awoken him. The culprit was of course his phone, lying almost too innocently on his bedside table as it continued to buzz, its screen lighting up in intervals aligned with the buzzing.

As much as Dan had very much decided that it was pretty much just the last thing he wanted to do, he reached for his phone, forcing his eyes to focus on the screen and the messages he’d received. It really was far too early, and Dan was anything but in the mood for it, but from the sheer amount of messages he’d been sent, he had to assume that something at least moderately important had happened - the kind of thing he’d need to pay attention to, regards of whether it was just past half seven in the morning or not.

What shocked him the most however, was simply the fact that messages had been sent by Chris. The moment he realised it, he felt a horrible sinking feeling burst out of the pit of his stomach and consume his entire body whole. He just knew that he wasn’t at all ready to deal with whatever Chris had to say to him anymore, because the thing was that sixteen messages just looked a whole lot too long to be an apology.

Dan really did want to ignore him. To put his phone on silent, or even turn it off entirely, put it back down and turn over in bed, close his eyes and go back to sleep, to think about literally anything besides the whole Chris ordeal for a few more hours, and then maybe attempt to fathom the situation when it was significantly closer to midday. Half seven in the morning just wasn’t cutting it for Dan, not at all. In fact, he struggled to imagine just what was going on in Chris’ brain that had him up so early. But of course, Dan had also struggled to imagine just what it was that had gone on in Chris’ brain for him to assume that Dan had been playing some sick joke on him.

The part of Dan’s brain that simply couldn’t leave the mess as it was suddenly sparked up as he dragged himself back to the day before, to the mess that his and Chris’ friendship had disintegrated away into. It was sad really. The pathetic kind of sad, because oddly enough, throughout the course of the whole day, Dan was yet to possibly cry. Instead he’d felt much more outraged than anything else, and if he knew anything, it was that outrage, seven thirty in the morning, and texts to your sort of ex-best friend weren’t a good combination. Regardless of that, Dan unlocked his phone.

He would have liked to imagine that he could at least have listened to his own advice, but today had already made it apparent that it just wasn't going to be his day. Perhaps Dan would have been okay with that, perhaps he would have even accepted it, well, if it had been any other day, any other day where he wasn’t dragged up at half seven in the morning to deal with a whole shitshow involving someone he’d happily called his best friend less than twenty four hours ago, but now felt like he didn’t know at all.

Dan did very much know it was a bad idea as he opened his conversation with Chris. He made no point of lying to himself about it; it was far too early for all of that anyway. The thing was however, that the truth definitely didn’t seem to have it within its power to stop him, and by the time he’d read the first of the  _ sixteen _ messages, the damage had already been done.

_ ‘Hey look I know its early but I need to talk to you’ _

_ ‘Are you awake?’ _

_ ‘Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Yesterday was fucked up though’ _

_ ‘You know that dont you? That was fucked up. Like properly’ _

_ ‘I guess its not as bad as i thought it was though but still you were being a massive dickhead’ _

_ ‘Massive dickhead. Emphasis on the massive dickhead. Massive dickhead’ _

_ ‘But youre still my best friend i guess. I think that counts for a lot and I mean i did some thinking and i guess things arent as bad as i thought’ _

_ ‘Can you please wake up? I need to talk to you’ _

_ ‘For fucks sake’ _

_ ‘Anyway cut the crap i was in a state yesterday like a proper mess. I think you figured that’ _

_ ‘So anyway im not bi. I just sort of threw that at you because i was in such a mess that i couldn’t think straight… literally’ _

_ ‘So if im not bi i dont need to be that offended about your stupid fucking joke so i would accept your friendship again if we can just leave this whole mess alone and not talk about it again’ _

_ ‘I mean you are my best friend and i do miss you but you were such a fucking dickhead’ _

_ ‘It doesnt matter that im straight but joking about sexuality is fucking sick’ _

_ ‘At least you’ll be glad to hear that you can stop pretending to bi for me’ _

_ ‘Fucking wake up dan this is important’ _

Dan swallowed hard as he finished the end of Chris’ mess of texts, struggling to comprehend just what situation they were currently in, and then stopping to think for a moment if he even wanted anything to do with it anymore. The fact that Chris had been his best friend, however, that was inescapable, and Dan really did reckon that he just didn’t want to lose him over this. He just wished that he could make him understand, he wished that Chris could stop fucking around with his sexuality, he wished that Chris could accept not only Dan, but himself too. That had to come with time though; things couldn’t be like this forever, and Dan was counting on that fact.

He’d drifted off up into his own head, wrapping himself securely up in his own thoughts when his phone screen light up again, vibrating into his hands with enough force to give him a minor heart attack. His eyes glanced back down at the screen to see another message from Chris: the  _ seventeenth _ message.

_ ‘Ha i know youre awake. I do know when youve seen something’ _

Dan let out a groan, coming to quickly accept that this had suddenly become a situation that he’d very directly have to deal with in that moment. He just wished he had even the slightest clue just how he was supposed to deal with it, or deal with anything like it, for that matter. He knew that he couldn’t run away from all of his problems forever, but it was sure a hell of alot easier than it was facing up to them the moment they occurred.

_ ‘Im awake’ _

Dan sent a text in admittance, in confirmation of what Chris already knew, for the sake of just wasting away time, filling in his side of the conversation, as he awaited what Chris could possibly spring on him in response.

As he had expected, Chris’ response arrived in all of fifteen seconds. The thing was however, that expecting it just hadn’t made it any easier to deal with.

_ ‘So youve read all my other messages? Do you want to move on from this and like apologise and everything and like obsessing over my sexuality and like stop forcing a sexuality onto me or something?’ _

Dan’s eyes widened, struggling to take in just what Chris was telling him. He had desperately tried not to turn this into an argument, but all hopes of that very quickly came to fade away the very moment Dan had sent his reply.

_ ‘How the fuck am I forcing a sexuality onto you?’ _

He really wished he could have been polite at least, but there were just some things that he absolutely  _ couldn’t _ deal with, and this situation had very quickly secured its place at the top of that list.

Chris’ response held just the same bitterly spiteful tone that Dan’s had, and all in all, it was a sure sign that this conversation was going just where Dan had feared that it might.

_ ‘By going on about how I’m obviously gay for PJ all the fucking time. It’s fucking annoying because I’m not. I’m straight and I can’t even be sure of that because you won’t leave me alone’ _

Dan wasn’t even sure how Chris’ brain could possibly work this shit out. As much as it frustrated him, he had to accept that it was likely all a side effect of him repressing his sexuality as much as he could, and that he couldn’t blame him for that at all. Dan, after all, knew a lot about struggling with sexuality, whether or not Chris actually cared enough to believe him.

_ ‘Look Chris I don’t care what sexuality you are as long as youre comfortable with yourself but I really do think theres somehting between you and PJ. The thing im trying to get across is that you shouldnt be ashamed of that or feel the need to hide it or erase it because it’s okay. It’s okay if theres something there’ _

Chris’ response was much more hesitant than they had been before, taking almost a full minute before Dan had received it. Dan could only imagine the kinds of thoughts that had clouded his head moments before sending it, but of course, they definitely seemed to be the kind of thoughts that Chris was far too intimidated by to ever properly face up to.

_ ‘But is it okay if there’s not something there?’ _

Dan let out a defeated kind of breathy sigh, having hoped that his words might have inspired Chris to come to accept himself a little more, but really, they were just words, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of mess was currently throwing itself around Chris’ mind. Therefore, all there was that Dan could do was just try and be the best friend to Chris he could be, even if that meant accepting him as straight, despite the fact that the whole world knew he was anything but that.

He did let himself consider the possibility that Chris was right in all of this, just for a second. Perhaps just for the sake of wondering what could come of Chris being actually heterosexual. The thing was however, that Dan had seen how his best friend had looked at PJ, how he’d obsessed over him, how much he valued him, and Dan, as a certified homosexual himself, could definitely relate that to some slightly less than straight feelings that he’d experienced for himself.

_ ‘Yes’ _

Dan responded, deciding that perhaps it had just reached the point where it was better to leave it, regardless of his better judgement.

_ ‘So are you going to apologise?’ _

Dan couldn’t help but grimace at the idea; he knew that Chris was upset with him, and this would make things better, but realistically, he’d hardly done anything at all, and he just wished more than anything that Chris might actually come to accept that one day. Not now, maybe not soon, but one day eventually.

_ ‘I'm sorry for everything. I hope we’re still best friends’ _

Dan watched his phone eagerly for a response, knowing that despite the mess he had gotten himself into, he valued Chris’ friendship more than anything else in the world.

_ ‘Of course we are. Apology accepted’ _

Dan couldn’t help but let a grin slip his face as he read Chris’ response over for the tenth time.

_ ‘Good. Can I go back to sleep now?’ _

There was no avoiding the fact that it really was just far too early, and this had been all too much for Dan to deal with.

_ ‘Well im not going to stop you’ _

Chris’ response came quickly and followed by a string of nonsensical emojis. As much as it did make Dan cringe all over, he knew that it was a sure sign that everything was alright again, and therefore found himself lying in bed, finding an odd kind of comfort in the aubergine emoji of all things.

As he put his phone back down on his bedside table, Dan couldn’t help but focus on the worst of the situation, which of course was the fact that Chris still thought he’d lied about his sexuality, and that there’d be no easy way to get him to understand, at least not for quite a while now. Dan had to admit that it bothered him significantly more than he wanted it to, because more than anything he wanted Chris to understand.

He wondered if he’d have to get a boyfriend and properly snog him right in front of Chris before the message sunk in. Of course, Dan would actually have to get a boyfriend for that, and considering how much of a mess he was, it really didn’t look likely at all.

Dan rolled over in bed and closed his eyes, trying to get back to sleep, and even more than that, trying not to let himself think about Phil at all. Especially not in such close correlation with the word ‘boyfriend’. That  _ definitely _ made the list of things it was too early to deal with, but at the very least, this was something he could properly avoid by rolling over and going back to sleep.

-

By one that afternoon Dan had done just as much as to move to the living room, sprawling out across the sofa, covered in blankets, with his laptop burning into his chest. It made a change from being in very much the same position in his bed at least. In fact, this meant that he’d properly gotten  _ out _ of bed, which was really not something he tended to have the motivation to do.

He reckoned that by doing as much as to get out of bed, he had done enough to warrant spending as much of the day as possible mindlessly scrolling through social media - that was, of course, one of Dan’s favourite pastimes. If he was being entire honest with himself, however, the main reason he felt the need to excuse spending the whole day doing basically nothing at all was that he just needed to get himself away from it all - the thoughts of Phil, of Chris, of the mess that had been made.

Somehow Dan found that Chris’ insistence that everything was now fine didn’t seem to mean very much to him. He still found himself with numbing kind of discomfort locked up inside of chest, steadily gnawing away at his heart. If Dan knew what was best for him, he would have talked to someone, hours ago, even just about the simplest of his emotions, even just about how he thought Chris was an idiot and he thought Phil was cute, nothing more than that, none of the details, none of the mess. But the thing was that Dan definitely know what was best for him. Well, perhaps he did, but he just didn’t believe it enough to care.

Still, it remained as a constant nagging at the back of his head, playing out the kinds of conversations he should have been having in his head. Dan did do his best to ignore it, to block everything out and have the slightest hope that he just might be able to relax, to forget everything for a while. That didn’t last very long however, and really a part of Dan hadn’t even bothered to expect it to: knowing all too well that the world had seemed to decide that things just could never possibly go in his favour.

It was when it all finally got too much that he set his laptop down on the floor and sat up, stretching for a moment before sliding his feet from the sofa to touch the cold wooden floor of his living room. He took a moment to himself, rubbing his eyes and swallowing hard, then another just to breathe, before pulling himself to his feet, regretting the action almost instantly as all the blood in his body seemed to rush right to his feet and his head began to ache.

He stepped further into the middle of the living room, stretching his arms upwards and yawning slightly, basking in the glory of an empty house, of a day to himself, and hating how it hadn’t been able to mean nearly as much to him as he wanted it to. Dan took another moment for himself, wasting it away, with vacant eyes towards the walls, taking around his surroundings as if it was the first time he was seeing them, before he forced himself out of the trance his mind desperately wanted to fall into. He urged his feet forward, struggling almost as if he’d somewhat forgotten how to walk. It was odd, unexplainable, but Dan put it down to the fact that his body really was just all over the place that day.

In the end, he made it to the kitchen and did his best not to think about anything at all as he made himself a glass of water and sat down at the table to drink it. He didn’t let himself focus on anything until he the glass lay empty before him. He slammed it down on the table with more force than he had intended and took a second to take in the thud. He took a breath, leaning back in his chair and then coming to  _ force _ himself to think, but to think properly, to think about the right things, to think in a way that made sense, or at least in way that might get him somewhere.

It didn’t take him very long to figure that the mess of that morning wasn’t going to fade away by itself, and that unfortunately he’d have to do something more about it than just ignore everything. Dan didn’t very much like the idea, especially when it became clear that his best option was to  _ talk _ to someone about it all, but he sat there for a while longer and eventually came to accept that it was something he’d have to force himself to do.

Clinging desperately to the hope that his head might shut up for once, Dan pulled his phone out of his pocket and slid it onto the table before him. He found himself just staring at it blankly for a good while, as if it might do all the talking for him, but that was something Dan could only dream of.

He let out a groan, forcing his body to cooperate with his mind, and leant forward, unlocking his phone and scrolling through his depressingly short list of contacts. The one positive about the situation was perhaps simply the fact that at least he didn’t have to spend very long deciding who to talk to about everything, considering the fact that he definitely had more fingers than he had friends… probably even just on one hand too.

Dan decided that was a horribly depressing, albeit horribly true, thought, and did his best to brush it away, doing all he could to rid himself of it, to rid himself of it all, which was of course to finally press the ‘call’ button.

The dial tones were unbearable: weighing down on him with what felt to be a physical pressure, and seconds seemed to last for hours as he waited. Dan had never been good with phone calls or facing up to things, and found that a combination of the two was only working wonders for the part of his head that loved nothing more than to worry and obsess over everything possible.

“Hey Dan.” Cat’s voice came as a relief: calm and positive, perhaps the polar opposite of Dan at that moment, or perhaps even in general. It was all that he needed. He really did hope that she hadn’t had plans other than helping her pathetic mess of a friend make sense of his head - it was a Saturday, after all.

“Hey Cat…” He choked a little, making it immediately obvious that he was nowhere as calm as she was. As much as he hoped that she wouldn’t pick up on it, he prayed like hell that she would. He just couldn’t let go of the part of him that still desperately wanted to run away from everything and hide away up inside his head forever.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, concern evident in her voice, having easily recognised the mess behind Dan’s. He took a moment to remind himself that she was entirely the kind of friend he just didn’t deserve; he just hoped she would never properly catch wind of that.

“Kind of a lot.” Dan admitted, letting out a sigh, stretching his legs out under the kitchen table and thinking for a moment. He found that he was very much unsure as to where it was that he should start, or how he could even start, or even just how he could begin to detail this mess at all.

She let out a laugh: warm, bubbly, and oddly hopeful. Dan couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but he desperately appreciated it. Perhaps he just appreciated her: the simple fact that she was there, and she was listening, and that perhaps things might make sense of themselves after all.

“Start from the beginning.” She offered, taking the liberty of breaking apart the silence, making it just that little bit easier for him. 

“There’s this guy.” Dan began, his heart beginning to flutter almost absurdly as he brought his mind back to his first encounter with Phil. “His name’s Phil. And he’s… he’s… the most wonderful guy I’ve ever met. He’s the most wonderful person. He’s beautiful. Properly beautiful: inside and out.”

“Sounds an awful lot like you’re in love with him.” Cat let out a laugh, despite the fact that her tone seemed awfully serious. Dan might have perhaps considered minding if she wasn’t just impossibly right.

“Yeah… I…” Dan found himself choking on his words. “I sort of am. Not exactly  _ in love _ but he’s… I don’t know… he’s… just… beautiful. And that’s all lovely, because I mean, that’s not even the issue here, because it’s just… the fact that I’m like incredibly homosexual.” Dan stopped for a moment after the words left his lips. “Incredibly homosexual.” He repeated, perhaps just because he could; there was something empowering in it somehow. “And… Chris… he’s like… he’s very much not straight either, and look, I thought I’d finally gotten somewhere. I thought he’d finally accepted himself but there’s this whole fucking mess and it’s just- I can’t deal with it.”

“How does Chris’ sexuality link to yours?” She asked, unable to quite connect the two as of yet.

“Well, it’s when he came out as bi in the school toilets, looking as if he was never going to stop crying, because he was so scared of what everyone would think, what I would think. I wanted to let him know that it was okay, that I could never judge him for his sexuality, especially since I’m gay myself, so I told him. I didn’t really think it through, I sort of just spat it out. I didn’t even think at all. And then he fucking… he… thought I was lying, that I was playing some sort of sick joke and I just-”

“What?” Cat exclaimed, sharing the very same disbelief that Dan still couldn’t quite manage to rid himself of.

“He thought I was joking. He didn’t believe me, even now. Even now everything’s ‘fine’ because we’ve apologised, and he’s clarified that he’s actually realised that he’s straight and I don’t have to worry that he knows I’m really straight too. I can’t deal with it, and it doesn’t help that it all makes me think about Phil and how I feel about him, and it’s all such a fucking mess and it even seems like I’d have to fucking kiss a guy in front of Chris for him to even begin to think about believing me.”

“And you want to do that.” Cat finished for him, not giving Dan the time to argue otherwise. “You want to do that. I can tell. You want to kiss Phil and you want to prove Chris wrong. You maybe even want to do it for the look on his face, that would be if you weren’t so head over heels for Phil though.”

“I… uhh…” Dan stammered, unsure of just what he  _ could _ say.

“Leave things with Chris for a while, let him think you’re straight, let him think that he’s straight, let him think that you think that too. Focus on Phil, talk to him about things, be honest, and I’m sure everything will pretty easily fix itself.” Cat seemed to just have a knack for advice that Dan couldn’t help but be eternally grateful for.

“I’m a bit worried about Chris though.” Dan admitted, biting down on his bottom lip for a moment, as if he had to hold the words back for a while. “Repressing his sexuality like that is going to fuck him up, and it’s not fair for PJ to deal with-”

“Dan.” Cat interrupted him, her voice louder, but still holding the same kind of calming tone. “PJ tells me a lot about what him and Chris get up to, and the thing is that Chris is absolutely fine with himself when it’s just with PJ, he just can’t deal with admitting it to anyone else. That’s going to change though, of course it will. He’ll get the confidence eventually. Just leave him to it, leave him to deal with his own mess, and you deal with yours: don’t worry about him, alright? Trust me, things are all going to work out okay.”

“Are they?” Dan sounded doubtful, but wanted more than anything to be able to believe her.

“They are.” Cat assured him. “They  _ always _ do in the end. You just have to wait long enough.”

“I’m not a very patient person.” Dan admitted, grimacing at the idea of just how long it might take for this all to come around.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I think that this time you won’t have to wait awfully long. Trust me.” There was a certain kind of assurance in her voice that left Dan inclined to believe her, and as much as his common sense urged otherwise, he left himself to become confident in each and every syllable she’d uttered. At the very least, things didn’t look half as depressing that way.

-

Phil didn’t find that he ended up waiting very long. He had expected to spend at least a good ten minutes stood at the start of the path that trailed off away from the roads and into the woods, waiting there with Susan, with as much patience as he could manage to muster. In reality, however, he found that he’d stood there for little more than two minutes before he caught sight of Dan, making his way down the road towards him.

There was no way around the fact that Phil had very much noticed Dan’s sudden change of tone, even if it had only been conveyed so far via text messages, it was very much unavoidable. Over the span of a couple of days - not even a full weekend, Phil had found that Dan had changed to such an extent that sometimes he just couldn’t see the same Dan he’d seen before, even in the very same conversation. There was no avoiding the fact that this worried him, perhaps more than he’d like it too, but Dan did happen to mean an awful lot to him after all.

Phil waited until Dan had properly reached his side until he chose to strike up a conversation: it was a combination of not wanting to yell at him awkwardly through the street, and also the fact that he very suddenly found that he wasn’t quite sure what to say. He did want to dismiss it all: the weird messages, the sudden change in demeanour, which might all just be a bad mood, or a bad few days, but Phil just couldn’t shake the worry that it was just a little bit deeper than that.

“Hey.” Phil addressed him rather plainly, dragging his eyes up to meet Dan’s and tossing him a gentle smile. Dan only did as much as nod to him in return, before dropping his gaze down to Phil’s feet, to Susan, sniffing at the ground between them: so blissfully oblivious to everything that lay between the two boys.

“You weren’t late at all.” Phil continued to fill in the silence, as Dan had neglected to do so, instead focusing his attention on Susan entirely, as he leaned down to run his fingers through her fur. “I barely just got here.” Phil coupled with his words with a spout of cheery laughter, hoping it might do something to get some form of actual conversation out of Dan.

“Sorry.” Dan blushed: his voice low, almost unnervingly so. He pulled away from Susan and stood to face Phil, meeting him with an almost weary smile. “I don’t know. I thought… I don’t know what I thought… I just… things are a bit weird lately.”

“Mmm…” Phil gave a nod in response, and gave Susan’s lead a tug towards the path, before the three of them began to make their way down it, the masses of vegetation stretching out all around them. “With Chris and everything?” He continued to ask, noting that Dan wasn’t perhaps in the most conversational of moods that day.

“Yeah.” Dan gave a sigh, pulling his eyes away from Phil and instead towards the trees around them, and the few golden brown leaves upon their branches. It was the beautiful kind of autumn, where everything was yet to fully fall apart, before the trees were bare, and the leaves rotted away amidst the dirt beneath your feet. Despite everything else going on up inside his head, he reckoned he ought to appreciate it.

“Still, it’s good to get out, isn’t it? Like, away from all that, because it’s just you, me, and Susan now, we’re sort of away from everybody else, away from the rest of the world. That’s why I like going to the woods, you feel like you’re somewhere else entirely, somewhere you don’t have to think about all that stuff.” He followed Dan’s gaze out towards the trees, the three of them coming to a stop before an enormous oak tree, with thick, textured branches that seemed to span almost triple the width of the trees that surrounded it.

“That tree must be ancient.” Phil commented, stepping forward to reach out and run his fingers over the nearest branch: feeling the cracks and dimples in the bark, and taking a moment to wonder how it must have grown over so many years.

“Yeah. A hundred years old at least.” Dan continued, seeming to find it considerably easier to engage in conversation that centered around nature, rather than himself, and really, the things he reckoned that he should be talking about,  _ especially _ with Phil.

“A hundred?” Phil turned back to Dan, his face contorting in disbelief. “Can you imagine that? The world a hundred whole years ago, like when this tree was planted, it was almost like the world was an entirely different place. That’s really weird to think about it.”

“I think it’s kind of beautiful.” Dan admitted as he stepped forward and placed his palm flat down against the trunk. He lifted his hand a moment later, pressing only his fingertips into the indented bark. “Like… it’s sort of a symbol that life can withstand whatever, like this tree’s probably lived through wars and such colossal changes in life and history. The whole world changed so much around it, but it’s still here, and it’s still growing strong.”

Phil met him with a smile. “That really is beautiful.” There was however, something in his eyes that seemed to hint that he wasn’t talking entirely about the tree. After all, he couldn’t help but find himself captivated in the way Dan spoke, and the way he seemed to have so much thought and care for the oddest things sometimes.

“Mmm…” Dan nodded, turning back as he felt Susan scurrying up to his heels, resting her body against his feet. His face fell into a grin as he drew his gaze down to follow her movements. “Susan seems pretty happy to see me.” Dan noted, unable to stop himself from grinning as she reached her tiny little ferret hands up onto his leg.

“She’s not the only one.” The words left Phil’s lips before he could really even think about stopping himself. Thankfully, however, Dan really didn’t seem to mind. Instead, the two shared a smile: a smile that said all too much and all too little at the very same time, while Susan finally moved away from Dan’s feet.

“Or maybe she’s just bored with us, bored with this tree. I think she wants to explore.” Dan suggested, watching the way Susan wandered as far as her lead would let her, sniffing the ground with a definite sense of intrigue.

“Yeah.” Phil nodded, moving away from the tree, and allowing Susan to scurry back to the path. “I wish I could let her off her lead but we know what happened when I last did that. When she almost killed you.”

“She didn’t  _ kill _ me.” Dan stressed, perhaps more for the sake of his own dignity by anything else, as after all, being trampled by a ferret really wasn’t the most heroic of ways to go. “Not even close. Susan wouldn’t do that.” He insisted, smiling across at Phil.

“She can get vicious sometimes.” Phil warned him, very much light-heartedly, and the three of them continued down the path, letting the quiet settle back in around them, as they were accompanied by little more than the sounds of crunching leaves underfoot. 

“Me and Chris are alright again.” It was a good three minutes until Dan broke into conversation, very much unexpected by the both of them. Phil had come close to wandering off on some irrelevant tangent himself, perhaps entirely just for the sake of passing the time.

“That’s good?” Phil added, somewhat uncertain, as Dan’s whole demeanour seemed to so very much contradict the whole idea that everything might been fine again. He just couldn’t help but suspect that there was more to it.

“Yeah… I guess.” Dan muttered, his words barely audible, perhaps as if he hadn’t even intended them to be. “I just… it’s Chris that says everything’s alright again, and I…” Dan trailed off, seeming to lose any idea of what to say entirely.

“You don’t think everything’s alright.” Phil finished for him, finding that his suspicions had definitely been right. Dan gave him a quick nod in confirmation. “I guessed something was up. You’ve been off recently. It’s been worrying me.”

Dan groaned, his cheeks filling out to an irritatingly vibrant shade of red. “Why are you worried? Don’t worry about me.  _ Please _ don’t ever worry about me. I’m fine, really. I’m… everything’s fine.”

“You just said it wasn’t.” Phil told him, a little sterner than usual, and the two came to a stop in the middle of the path, holding eye contact for longer than they had in an awfully long while. Dan found that the whole situation was made perhaps even  _ unfairly _ more difficult by the fact that he couldn’t help the horrible aching sensation in the middle of his chest when he began to lose himself in Phil’s eyes.

“Yeah.” Dan finally came to admit, focusing more upon Phil’s eyes than anything else, paying little attention to the world beyond the abyss of blues and sea greens that seemed to swirl and flow as if he was looking into two bubbling whirlpools, as opposed to a pair of eyes. Really, Dan just couldn’t help being pathetically head over heels for Phil; he really just was the most beautiful person - there was no denying that.

“So really…” Phil continued, moving almost subconsciously closer to Dan. “I do have a right to be worried about you.” He couldn’t help but finish his words with an oddly satisfied smirk. It, of course, wasn’t that he was happy that Dan was in such a state he ought to worry about him, he was just instead rather happy to prove him wrong.

“Fine.” Dan let out a sigh, letting his gaze fall to the floor, focusing instead on Susan, and trying his best to drag his mind away from the uncomfortable kind of thoughts he just found it downright impossible to avoid when he found himself this close to Phil. “I guess you do.”

“So…” Phil began tentatively, nervous that Dan might shrink away from him in response to what followed. “Do you want to talk about it? Maybe explain why Chris is wrong about everything being okay.”

Dan’s nod was slow and so very uncertain; the tone of his voice was almost identical. “Not yet.” He bit his lip. “There are… some things I really do  _ have _ to talk about with you… I just…  _ not yet _ .”

“Not yet.” Phil echoed, nodding in agreement. “Don’t worry about it. Those are things you should pretend don’t even exist, you know just for a little while.”

“I wish I knew how.” Dan admitted, watching as Phil finally began to make his way a little further down the path, as Susan had quickly grown bored and impatient, and was tugging insistently at her lead.

“Trust me.” Phil told him. “It’s really not that hard. Try not to even think about doing it. It’ll come naturally. Just think about the trees, the beauty of nature, and me and Susan, think about it like all you can see around you is the entire world.”

“I reckon things might be a lot more peaceful that way.” Dan let out a sigh, following Phil down the path.

“I really think they would.” Phil agreed, before the two fell back into silence again. This time around, however, it came as much more of a peaceful thing: something they both found themselves content with, at least for a while.

-

A way down the path, the woods opened up, letting a little more of the sky and the outside world in as they took a detour off into a seemingly unrealistically green field. The three of them had chosen to explore it, finding a certain kind of wonder in it, and how it seemed as if not a single person had set foot in it before. Of course, they knew that couldn’t be the case, but it definitely didn’t dampen the wonder it seemed to radiate.

They found themselves a peaceful spot quite a way away from the tree line, finding that the field seemed to be entirely enveloped by the forest, although it really didn’t seem to fit quite enough to warrant it being a clearing. However, both Dan and Phil mutually decided that perhaps the exact specifications of their current surroundings wasn’t exactly the most pressing of matters.

The two boys sat down on the grass, legs having grown tired from walking, as admittedly, neither of them were exactly at the peak of physical fitness. Phil set Susan’s lead down beside them, giving her a little more leeway to explore and amuse herself as they talked, or at least began to approach conversation.

Dan had decided that this was it: this was when he’d do it, when he’d finally be honest, both with Phil and himself. It had been eating away at him for far too long, and as much as he perhaps didn’t quite want to admit it, Cat very much seemed to be right about things.

“So… I think… I should talk to you about something.” Dan was the first to break the silence that had curled back up around them, broke only slightly by the sounds of Susan scuttling around them, sniffing at the ground with a simple, blissful kind of curiosity.

“Mmm?” Phil gave a nod, watching Dan with a sudden intrigue. “Is this… what you mentioned earlier?” He asked, leaving Dan to deal with his sudden fear of answering any question Phil might pose to him.

“Yeah…” He began, voice quieter than he wanted it to be. “Part of it, sort of. You know. Yeah… it’s… sort of like that.” He met Phil’s eyes, and found himself immediately regretting it, because it was just all too much to handle at all.

“Okay. I’m listening.” Phil told him, stretching back out across the grass, and Dan really did  _ try _ not to focus too much on the way the veins in his neck seemed to bulge as he stretched out backwards, but really, Dan wasn’t very successful.

He swallowed hard, quickly pulling his eyes away and wondering how he might even begin to start, how he could possibly relay this to Phil with the hope that it might make some sense when it didn’t even make sense to him at all. Really, this had all sounded so much easier when Cat had explained it all to him than it did in practice. More than anything, Dan wanted just to move on, to get up and get away from here, from the field, from the conversation, but he’d already started, and from the way Phil was looking at him, Dan reckoned that he wasn’t about to let this go.

“I… kind of… I’m scared.” He admitted, flashing desperate pleading eyes up at Phil, hoping at least for the slightest bit of sympathy, that somehow might do anything to help him grow enough courage to continue.

“Why?” Phil sat up again, moving closer to him, having hoped that his presence might comfort Dan and not in fact make everything just that great deal more complicated for him. “What are you scared of?”

“That I’ll fuck things up.” Dan admitted, finding it much easier to talk about his possible failures than what he actually wanted to become of all of this. “With us. That you’ll hate me. That you won’t ever want to see me again. I just… don’t think I can deal with that.”

“Dan, what could you  _ possibly _ say to me that would make me hate you?” Phil even did as much as to laugh it all off. Dan reckoned that ought to have been something that made things a little easier for him, but it really wasn’t the case; he still failed to shake the weight of everything, forever bearing down on him.

“I don’t know. Probably this.” Dan finished his words with a round of self-deprecating laughter. It wasn’t something that Phil shared. Instead, Phil looked at him oddly, taking in his appearance for a full minute before he continued.

“It’s not Dan. I could  _ never _ hate you. I mean that. I promise you that. You mean so much to me. Dan, you mean the world. I would never not want you in my life, and look whatever it is, whatever you’ve done, this is not going to change that.” Phil insisted, his tone sterner than usual, in a way that usually would have made Dan uncomfortable, but on this occasion it did seem to finally get the message across, and Dan finally let himself believe it.

“Alright… I just… it’s… it’s… this  _ thing _ . I’ve not  _ done _ anything. It’s just this  _ thing _ . Feelings. I fucking hate feelings.” Dan continued to laugh it off as he pulled his gaze away from Phil, allowing himself to fixate on nothing more than the few strands of grass directly in front of him.

“What is it that you  _ feel _ then?” Phil asked, perhaps a little more tentative than he had been before, although Dan couldn’t quite tell if that was just his imagination.

“A fucking hell of a lot. It’s complicated and I can’t explain it and if I’m honest I’m a bit scared of it and I really don’t want to talk about it, but Cat said I should and she’s right because it’s fucking killing me. It probably isn’t much longer until keeping it inside begins to feel worse than whatever could happen if I do say it, because after all, you promised that you won’t hate me.” Dan met him with an awkward, hopeful smile. “And I’m holding you to that.”

“It’s going to be fine.” Phil added, moving closer to Dan, which again didn’t help matters at all. “I promise.”

“So…” Dan opened his mouth, taking a moment to regret every moment in his life that could have possibly lead him up to that point, before pulling his gaze away once more, focusing instead on individuals blades of grass, and the treeline a little way ahead.

“I get these  _ feelings _ . It’s a mix of everything, but there’s one specific feeling in particular. They’re feelings about you.” He faltered, his words turning to dust in his mouth, right before they could pass his lips. “I… just… fuck-  _ feelings _ … I… fucking feelings,  _ god _ , Phil, I just-” Dan pulled his gaze back up to meet Phil, finding something entirely unexpected in his eyes.

“Dan… I… what kind of feelings?” His voice was lower than usually, perhaps even sharing the same nervous tone than Dan’s did. As much as Dan was caught up in the mess exploding inside his own head, he really couldn’t miss that.

“Uhh…” Dan dragged out a sigh, struggling to continue, and wanting more than anything to look away, back down at the grass or anything really, but there was something in Phil’s eyes that made it impossible for him to look away. He thought for a moment if perhaps he just didn’t really want to. There was a part of him that wanted this, after all, for things to go well, even as unlikely as it seemed to him. He focused on that part and hoped for the best, hoping that Phil might keep his promise.

“Like… fuck… like… stomach butterflies, like… you mean the world, like you’re my favourite person, like-... like… I have this  _ stupid _ , absolutely fucking  _ stupid _ kind of crush on you.” Dan found that he finished his sentence before he could even really think about it. Fuck. He really was fucked now. There was no avoiding that. “I’m sorry.” He stammered, doing his best to finally look away, to avoid everything, to let it all fade back into the most awkward silence and forever curse himself for thinking that something better might just come of everything.

That didn’t happen however. Much to Dan’s surprise, the thing that did was Phil extending an arm out to him, resting his palm against Dan’s cheek and pulling him closer, moving so quickly that Dan could hardly think until the very moment he’d leaned in, and then Phil Lester’s lips were suddenly pressed so very close to his.

And in that moment, despite the mess and chaos of everything else, the rest of the world really did seem to melt away entirely, as the two of them sat there, connected in an unexplainable way. It was more than just a physicality, it was more than just touch, more than just fingers intertwined and and lips pressed together, they were connected, like just one person there together, sharing every emotion and movement, as they were, even if just for that moment, truly symbiotic.

-


	13. here i am finally finishing the fic i said id never finish

It had been a week since that day. A week since they’d first kissed. A week since everything had finally begun to make sense, and no less than six days since they’d made it officially something. All in all, it seemed an awful lot like things were going alright for the both of them, and although the hopeless kind of lost feeling in Dan’s chest was still very much present, it had faded out noticeably, and there really was a great kind of comfort in that.

Dan was yet to really bring the matter up to Chris directly, but he’d certainly no made attempt to hide it. That felt good. Freeing, somehow, like there was no longer anything he had to lock away inside himself. Dan reckoned it had been entirely too long since he’d felt that way. He felt anew somehow; he wasn’t sure if he’d just wished he was enough to convince himself of it, or if something had actually physically changed, and if that was a whole new chapter in his life, or at the very least, just the start of it.

Dan had spoken a lot to Cat though. Cat had this habit of telling him things - the things PJ had confided in her with some element of secrecy. It was never intentional, it wasn’t that Cat ever wanted to purposefully break his trust, it was just the simple fact that Cat talked and Cat talked a lot, and sometimes she really couldn’t stop herself. It wasn’t as if Dan was going to go around telling the world anyway. Instead, the things Cat told him that PJ had told her in secret were much more like a personal kind of comfort for him, because from what he was hearing, things were getting better, not just for him, but for Chris and PJ too. 

Dan found a lot of hope in that. The hope that Chris would one day fully come around and accept himself in the way Dan had. It wasn’t even that Dan was just tired of seeing him like this, it was that Chris deserved it. Chris was a good person, Dan’s best friend, and he wasn’t the kind of person who needed a mess of self-loathing pent up inside them.

More than anything, Dan had wanted to properly address the situation again with Chris, at least just his own part of it, to properly talk about Phil or something like that, but he liked to believe that he’d learned from the last time around, and that he’d learned enough to know not to push things again. He reckoned it might be best to let things be, to let Chris come to his own conclusions in his own time, and then take whatever he needed before he could begin to voice those conclusions aloud. However, Dan knew now more than he’d ever known anything that he wanted to be honest.

The solution came in drawing a firm line between Chris’ business and his own and firmly declaring what he did and what he didn’t have the right to be honest about. After all, honesty was perhaps the very thing that might help Chris down the right path on his own, but Dan did have to be very careful not to push him. He struggled a little like that, with knowing when something was too much, because Chris was his best friend, and he wanted the best for him, and from where Dan was standing the solution was just so much more simple. What was important however, was the fact that if Chris hadn’t chosen it himself, it was hardly very much of a viable solution.

Dan had chosen to redirect all his concerns for Chris to himself, focusing on his own sexuality, and his own expression of that, his own life, and his own problems. It was calming: to be able to push everything away and be confident in that it was the right thing to do. Dan found that it really wasn’t something he was awfully confident with, but of course, he held his hopes in the fact that things would change, as everything had changed so much already after all.

He’d spent a lot of time with Phil recently, as had been expected, and they’d spent what was perhaps a surprisingly proportion of that time just talking. It wasn’t that talking was only the thing they dared to do or something along those lines, it was just that they both found themselves with quite an awful lot to say. It was a result of having just an awful lot up in their heads, and Dan really was giving the whole talking about your problems thing a go.

What they’d talked about had largely focused on where things went from here, because suddenly they were Dan  _ and _ Phil, beyond comfortable with one another, very much on the same page, perhaps even sharing beats from the same heart, and everybody else was just so distant and out of touch, not even just not on the same page, but lost and caught up several whole books away. As much as Dan relished in their unity, in the sudden sense of universal understanding and comfortable he was almost smothered in, he didn’t want to leave everything else, to leave everyone else, behind. The thing was that although Phil might have been at the centre of his universe that week, and perhaps for many more weeks to come, Phil certainly wasn’t the only other planet around.

Dan couldn’t deny that the mere thought of it gave him a horrible kind of anxiety, but more than anything, he wanted to fix things, to bridge those gaps, to bring everyone else up to speed, for his friends to meet Phil finally. It felt like it had been far too long that they’d shared even just a friendship without ever acquainting each other with the other parts of their lives. Dan had, of course, talked at length about Phil to many people, namely Cat, but his mum and Chris even. He also didn’t doubt that PJ had picked up a certain amount that Dan had just let slip. That wasn’t enough however, he wanted a face to that name, he wanted them to understand, he wanted them to see the two of them together. It was suddenly the best part of his life and he desperately hoped that his friends might find even a fraction of the same happiness he had found in it.

If he was being entirely truthful with himself, however, what outshone everything else was the simple fact that he wanted  _ Chris _ to understand. He wanted him to see that it wasn’t all just a facade, that there had been truth in those words uttered frantically in the boys’ bathroom; it had hardly been the best of places, it had hardly been the best of times, but it had been the truth, and that held an awful lot of meaning even just by itself. Even with their ‘apologies’, even with their smiles, there was still a gap - a gap that Chris was obviously clueless about, but Dan had seen it long ago, and with that he knew he had to bridge it.

Of course, this all came with an awful, awful lot of easier said than done, but Dan had found, surprisingly, that he really could achieve quite a hell of a lot when he really wanted to. As this was  _ definitely _ something he wanted, perhaps even bordering on something he needed, but need was quite a matter of perspective after all.

-

Oddly enough, the house smelt of tea. Not strongly, but with a slight aroma that hit you every so often, with different flavours and different scents. It wasn’t unpleasant, at least not in Dan’s eyes - it certainly was odd, after all. It didn’t offer much of a contrast to the over vibrant pinks and greens across the walls, however. The house was so very much alive: full of personality, full of colour, but in a way that ‘odd’ didn’t seem to hold much weight at all. The house smelt of tea and that was that. 

It only held weight because Dan let it. He’d grabbed very desperately onto anything the very moment he’d walked through the door. It served as a distraction, something to occupy his mind for a brief few moments as he focused on deep breaths and the simple matter of running the situation back through his mind for the seven hundredth time. As much as Dan wanted it to happen, as much as Dan had long awaited the moment, it was entirely different when it finally came; perhaps not unpleasant, perhaps just odd, or perhaps not even odd at all. It was how it was and that was that.

Dan shared a long glance with Phil as he’d closed Cat’s front door behind him. Phil looked awkward: more so than Dan did, he was just better at masking it. Phil had this knack for fitting himself into the most uncomfortable of situations, and Dan really couldn’t help but be jealous. But really, their situation wasn’t uncomfortable at all, just nerve wracking, and that was to be expected after all. Dan just wished his mind would shut up for once, completely, just for one minute. He craved the calm and the silence like he’d never craved anything before, but he knew the only way he was going to get there was to get this over with, to get the words out his mouth, to endure the eye contact, to let the words be said and hope to continue in the best light.

Dan had told Cat about his plans two nights before, sounding almost unbelievably excited as he’d recounted it all to her on the phone. It served as an almost astounding contrast to the reality of the situation, to the two boys sharing nervous glances under Cat’s vaguely amused gaze. She’d agreed to help him out with it all, to help him finally introduce Phil as his boyfriend and let every loose end tie itself up, but really, she couldn’t offer much more help than letting them use her house. 

Admittedly, she had invited everyone over under the pretence of going out somewhere and doing something far more interesting than dealing with Dan possibly have a meltdown over his sexuality. Dan sort of felt that as a pressure, that he had to make this at least moderately entertaining, and at the very least, not horrendously unpleasant. Dan was moderately confident that he might be able to do that. Well, it looked an awful lot like he was going to have to now, regardless of what he might have thought about it.

“Is everyone here?” Dan asked, his voice low and tentative, having finally pulled his eyes away from Phil long enough to hold any kind of conversation with Cat. Admittedly, it felt a little pathetic, but he found a incomparable kind of comfort in Phil, even in just his gaze, even in just simple little moments like that. Dan did wonder if he’d ever find anything that might give him the same kind of comfort as well.

“Yeah. You’re the last to arrive. You’re  _ late _ technically.” She curled her lips up into a smirk and gestured up at the clock on the wall to their right. “Doesn't matter much though, I mean, it wasn’t like we could start without you.” She softened her smile, taking a breath and finally turning to face Phil.

“Hi…” Phil trailed off, a nervous blush heating up his cheeks as he felt Cat’s eyes upon him, boring into him and tearing holes in the confident facade he’d smothered all over himself. It didn’t half make him uncomfortable, but he took a moment to remind himself that she was Cat and she was definitely nice enough, or nice to Dan at least. He did just hope that kindness extended to him. After all, Phil had found himself awfully caught up in worrying as to just what everyone might think of him.

It was to be expected really - Dan mattered to him, and so must the opinion of Dan’s friends, as he didn’t half doubt that the opinion of Dan’s friends certainly mattered to him. It didn’t help that Dan wasn’t in much of a state to assure him that everything would be fine, but he had to appreciate that Dan also had a lot going on up in his head, and that if he thought about things only mentally, he was definitely better off.

“Phil.” Cat nodded at him, curling her lips up into a smile, one that gave him an awful lot more hope for what might lie ahead than her previous expression had. “Nice to meet you.” She finished, glancing back to Dan for a moment. “He seems nice and he’s hot, I approve entirely.”

Dan barely had time to snort in disbelief before Cat had dragged him by the hand and lead him towards the living room door, behind which Chris and PJ were sat. And then, very suddenly, that was it.

As the three stood in the doorway, Chris looked up with an unwarranted amount of nerves held in his eyes. Dan pondered it for a moment, as his eyes had flown straight to Chris, after all - it was just something he couldn’t help. It was as Cat let out an oddly enthusiastic gasp that he pulled his eyes over to take in the world picture.

And there were Chris and PJ, hands linked firmly together in a way that could only spell one thing out. What remained unmissable, however, was the panic in Chris’ eyes, the way his face had quickly turned red, and how he almost seemed to want to tug his hand away and safely into his lap. PJ, however, was calm, composed, and awfully reluctant to anything at all like that. Instead, he gripped Chris’ hand tighter and even seemed to move a little closer to him.

It wasn’t as if Dan had ever really had much of a speech prepared, but he found himself suddenly rather speechless, unable to convey anything more than astonishment as he continued to stare at their linked hands for what seemed an awful lot like it might be forever. As simple as the gesture was, it meant a whole lot more than it seemed to, because this wasn’t just about a relationship, this wasn’t about them showing affection, this wasn’t about their hands at all. Instead it was focused upon what lay behind that: what had put those thoughts in Chris’ mind, what had brought him to a point where he was at all ready for that. It was that which really had Dan speechless, not the gesture itself.

The silence seemed as if it might settle in and make a permanent residence smothered all around the room, if not for the impatience growing in Cat’s eyes, and the hopeful smile creeping out onto her face as she stepped forward, properly into the room, facing Chris and PJ with the kind of look in her eyes that Chris couldn’t help but shy away from. 

“So…” She grinned, glancing between Chris and PJ and Dan and Phil. “Well… I guess this has worked out nicely.” She cleared her throat, gesturing for Dan to stop hiding behind the door, and really to stop hiding away from what he promised he’d do. It wasn’t even much of a promise between the two of them; it was much more of a promise to himself.

PJ looked up as if to say something, having concluded that Chris was hardly capable of breathing for the moment, let alone coming to actually offer up any kind of explanation or opinion on what it was that had happened between them. He came to a halt, however, as Dan dragged Phil into the room. “Who’s that?” He asked, glancing between Dan and Cat, reckoning that they knew more than he did.

Dan glanced across at Cat, as if hoping that she might reply, and possibly even do all of the talking for him, but with a quick, sharp look she communicated that there was simply no chance that was happening. He knew after all, that as much as he might not want to, this was something he had to say for himself, and not just something he could brush off or ignore with the ever inquisitive look in PJ’s eyes. Dan didn’t even quite dare to glance across at Chris. He would, of course, just not quite yet.

“This is…” He stammered out, turning to face Phil for some kind of moral support. Phil offered him a mildly encouraging smile and somehow that seemed to do the trick. It was quite the beautiful smile, of course. “This is  _ Phil _ .” He gestured towards Phil, taking a deep breath before continuing. “And… uhh… yeah… uhh. He’s my  _ boyfriend _ .” The word ‘boyfriend’ dropped from his lips like a bombshell.

“Oh.” PJ got up from the sofa he and Chris had been sat on, making his way across the room and meeting Phil with a smile. “Hey.” He nodded towards him, having very little to say in regards to the fact that he was Dan’s boyfriend; he seemed nice enough and that was that for him.

Phil found himself almost in disbelief at how calm and casual that had been. He locked eyes with PJ for a second, giving him a similar kind of smile and a nod, before returning his greeting. “Hi.” His voice was evidently quieter than he had intended it to be, which was perhaps just something that the situation couldn’t help, but Phil couldn’t deny that everything was going a hell of a lot better than he’d imagined that it might.

“I’m PJ.” PJ introduced himself, flashing Dan a momentary smile, the kind that reeked of an unruly kind of confidence, before turning back to Phil with the same kindness in his eyes. Before anyone could quite jump to fill the silence, however, PJ glanced back towards Chris, still sat uncomfortably on the very end of the sofa, with an unreadable kind of look held behind rapidly blinking eyes.

“Chris?” PJ asked, even his voice tentative. There was no ignoring the fact that it said a lot for their situation, and for the boy sat as if the whole world was caving in over him. Dan struggled to quite distinguish as to whether it had very much to do with him and Phil at all, or whether it was just the fact that they’d walked in on him holding hands with PJ, despite the fact that anyone was yet to properly address that.

“Yeah…” Chris seemed to speak as if to PJ only, stumbling to his feet and finally following PJ’s gaze back across to Dan and Phil. “Hi… I… I’m Chris.” He managed, words seeming to dissolve in his mouth as he tried to speak. 

“Hey.” Phil stepped forward, through Dan and PJ, ignoring Cat who had remained to the side of the room as this had all gone on, and walked forward to meet Chris. “Nice to meet you.” He told him, offering up the best kind of smile he could muster. Hoping more than anything that he might have a hope of making a good impression. With Chris it had seemed simple enough but with PJ it was obviously displayed as just an  _ entirely _ different story.

“Yeah. You too.” Chris managed, grimacing a little as he spoke, although it was much more down to his own nerves and the heavy weight of dread that had lodged itself firmly inside his chest, than it was to any kind of personal dislike towards Phil.

Dan suddenly felt all eyes on him: Phil turning back, unsure of what he was supposed to say next, PJ watching his eyes as they followed each and everyone of Phil’s movements, Cat watching, intrigued from across the room, and Chris, who had finally chosen to make eye contact, holding him with a bitterly uncertain demeanour about him.

“So…” Dan began, finding that the whole room expected him to have something to say for himself, where in reality he very much didn’t, and in turn finding that a rather uncomfortable situation to deal with. “That’s…  _ that _ .”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Chris choked out just the very moment Dan could finish his sentence, meeting his friend with guilty pleading eyes that made much more sense to Dan than anyone else around them. Dan knew what this was, and he’d almost come to expect it, as it had seemed rather inevitable, after all, but it did seem a great deal different in reality to how it had inside his head.

“It’s okay.” Dan assured him, his voice low and gentle, perhaps even bordering on calming, but Dan doubted that a true kind of calm was really not something he could muster in that moment, or perhaps even ever.

“It’s not. Fucking hell it’s not.” Chris let out a rather dramatic sigh before throwing himself back down onto the sofa, groaning and rubbing his eyes, wishing himself out of his current situation with all he had inside him. “I’m a fucking shit friend, aren’t I?”

“Chris…” PJ began, not entirely sure just what it was that he was supposed to say, but hoping that he might have some sort of impact somehow.

“You’re not.” Dan shook his head, speaking over PJ as if he’d never said a word. He took a moment to think before pushing past PJ and taking a seat beside Chris on the sofa. He held the other boy’s gaze for a brief moment before he continued. “You just… you had things wrong. That’s not your fault. I don’t blame you for it, and I certainly don’t hate or dislike you for it.”

Chris shook his head, burying it in his hands as he did his best to form the words he might use in some form an explanation. He recognised that this really wasn’t the best place or time to do this, with Cat, PJ, and Phil all staring at them. Really no one in the room had much of an idea as to just what it was that they were supposed to be doing, or how they should be handling the situation, and Chris couldn’t help but recognise that as his fault; he’d been the one to shout it all out after all.

“Okay…” Chris took a deep breath, making a point of trying to be somewhat calm and composed about this all before continuing. “So… well neither of us are actually straight?” He looked up at Dan with eyes wide like saucers, his nerves almost seeming to reflect and bounce off them in the light.

“Yeah.” Dan fell into a laugh, finding that was an awfully smile but just awfully accurate way to put things. “Yeah that’s… yeah. Neither of us are straight.” He repeated, clinging desperately to it, finding his chest almost seeming to light up with relief as he felt Chris warming up to the truth of it all.

“Sorry.” He shook his head, voice cracking a little as he managed to come to terms with the reality of the way things were. “You really were telling the truth and properly trying to make things easier for me, weren’t you?”

Dan met him with a nod, focusing all of his attention on Chris for just that moment. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” He told him, finding that he really did mean every word.

“Really? I mean I-” Chris began, almost excited to destruct any kind of self-esteem he may have built around himself over the course of the past few minutes.

“ _ Chris _ .” Dan raised his voice a little. “It’s fine. Honestly.” He tossed him a smile before getting to his feet again, finding that his eyes met Cat’s first of all. She offered him an almost congratulatory nod, recognising the fact that he had somehow managed to pull through and just let everything fix itself. Really, the knowledge of that was just exhilarating, bordering on unbelievable.

It was as Dan made his way over to Phil again, the two sharing a warm kind of look that seemed to replace the need for words entirely, that Chris spoke up again, much more confident than he had been before, and properly getting to his feet this time. Dan watched for a moment as him and PJ shared a look, one that perhaps seemed similar to the one he’d had with Phil; he’d tried not to over engage his head with what that could mean, keeping a clear line between what was and wasn’t his business, knowing full well that it would save him a lot of hassle. Despite that, however, he found that he really wasn’t left wondering awfully long, and that all questions and concerns began to dissipate as Chris opened his mouth.

“Me and PJ… uhh… yeah… PJ’s my boyfriend now, yeah, by the way.”

And from then on, it was very much all smiles and genuine laughter - not the kind riddled with nerves, or hidden behind a wall of lies, but something that came from deep within, from somewhere inside the heart and not just the chest.

-

Dan wasn’t sure if it was just the presence of Phil himself, or if that was actually something about Phil’s house that seemed to make it the most welcoming place in the world. Whichever it was, he found himself spending an awful lot of time there as of late. Not that spending most of his time lazing about in Phil’s bedroom with him, or lounged across the sofa in the living room, eating far too much shit and talking just as much, was entirely a bad idea. 

Dan had however found that proportionally, he was spending a great deal more time with Phil than he was Chris, or at least in comparison to how things used to be. Oddly enough, however, that just wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It wasn’t like Dan didn’t miss the extra time he spent with Chris, of course he did, it had just come with reason - it made sense, it was the natural progression of things as he got closer to Phil and Chris got closer to PJ, and the both of them had finally become happier and more comfortable as people. The real change in this all was how they felt in the time they did spend together, because they were certainly more open with one another, there was a whole new level of trust and respect for one another that simply hadn’t been present before and that was what really mattered to Dan.

It had all kicked off the very moment Chris had found the courage to come out to everyone, properly, not just through awkward gestures or letting people assume a truth that he didn’t care awfully much to hide, but by saying the words aloud. Dan reckoned that afternoon they’d spent at Cat’s house last weekend really had changed them all as people, and definitely for the better. There was a whole new kind of understanding between everything and everyone, and these days, Dan found himself looking around and simply making so much more sense of the world.

He put it down to the quiet: the unexpected quiet that had managed to make somewhat of a home inside his head. It was different, almost astonishingly so, how Dan’s head managed to function without the constant pressing weight of his sexuality looming above him. If he was being entirely honest with himself, he just couldn’t quite believe it, but what he did find himself certain of was just the fact that he wouldn’t change the way things had gone down, not even for the while. He was well aware that things certainly hadn’t always been easy, and definitely bordered on messy and convoluted at the best of times, but still, without all the bumps in the road he wouldn’t be where he was today, right in that very moment, and if Dan knew anything, it was that he’d never been more thankful for anything ever.

The afternoon posed itself as something like a final glimpse of summer as autumn really began to take its hold: an unexpected sunny day, not scorchingly hot but pleasantly warm, with calm blue skies and little more than a slight breeze. The weather had brought them outside and Dan had found that the welcoming charm of Phil’s house definitely extended to his garden.

The grass was long, in need of cutting, and stretching out for the majority of the relatively small garden. The perimeter, however, was lined with neat little flower beds, a few patches of vegetables against the fencing farthest away from the house, and a few little potted plants pushed up against the side of the house, to be sheltered from the most of the wind and the rain. 

Dan had his arms behind his head, propping himself up slightly in order to get a better look at Phil as he made his way back across the garden. As Phil grew closer, Dan let out a laugh and sat up properly, stretching a little and flattening several more blades of grass with the movement of his legs.

“You took your time.” Dan noted, his tone comical and teasing as he met Phil’s gaze. He watched with pure amusement as Phil struggled to meet him, Susan in squirming his arms, growing impatient and uncomfortable, and notably desperate to jump from his grasp and down onto the garden floor. Dan found that he couldn’t blame her; as much as Phil did love her, he didn’t look like he knew how to properly hold her particularly well. In his defense, it wasn’t as if ferrets were creatures that really did need holding particularly often anyway.

“She didn’t want to come out of her cage!” Phil exclaimed, letting out a sigh and releasing Susan from his arms, rolling his eyes as she darted across the garden the very moment her feet had hit the ground. “I think she’s being difficult on purpose.” Phil concluded, sitting down beside Dan, crossing his legs and meeting his boyfriend with a lazy kind of grin.

“I’m  _ sure _ she is.” Dan assured him, his gaze flickering between Susan and Phil, finding that he just couldn’t quite decide as to who it was that was the cuter of the two.

“She better not eat all the plants - mum will kill me.” Phil watched cautiously as Susan skirted the garden, sniffing inquisitively at a few carrots planted in the soil. “Really, she’s not even supposed to go in the garden.” He admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching up a little.

“And you brought her out anyway.” Dan shook his head in mock disbelief. “What have you become, Phil Lester?” He tutted loudly, rolling his eyes as Phil let out an audible sigh of relief as Susan seemed to decide that his mother’s plants weren’t quite so interesting after all.

“You’re a bad influence on me.” Phil told him offhandedly, stretching out across the grass, kicking his shoes off and wiggling his toes between blades of grass. Dan scoffed, finding that he wasn’t quite so sure of that. “A  _ really _ bad one.” Phil continued, turning onto his side in order to properly face Dan. “The  _ worst _ .”

“I’m a wonderful influence - I don’t know what you’re on about.” Dan shook his head, his gaze drifting out across the garden and locking onto Susan, who had now curled up in the grass, almost seeming to sunbathe a little, if that was something ferrets could even do - Dan found that he wasn’t entirely sure.

“You’re  _ terrible _ !” Phil exclaimed, exasperated and in shock, finding that he was no longer relaxed and perhaps even minutes away from nodding off, but in fact fully prepared to reel off a full recount of every time that Dan had ever been at least the slightest bit controversial.

Dan stopped him before he could quite get to that, however. “No.” He insisted, moving closer to Phil as he continued to emphasise his point. “I’m the  _ best _ kind of influence. You must be confused.” Dan paused for a moment, looking at Phil with an odd kind of look in his eyes, finding that he really didn’t know what it was that he was saying at all. “You’re confused because of the heat!” He finally exclaimed, perhaps a little  _ too _ proud of managing to come to some kind of confusion, as his voice was perhaps even just uncomfortably loud, but definitely too loud for a sunny garden and a lazy afternoon.

“The heat?” Phil raised his eyebrows, gesturing around in disbelief. “Dan, this is England, I don’t think you could get heatstroke without physically trying. It’s  _ October _ .”

“This is a  _ warm  _ day!” Dan quickly found himself becoming increasingly vocal in his own defence. “This is a  _ very _ warm day, especially for October, so really, it would make sense, because you’re not expecting the heat, so you’re not prepared for it, so you’re more susceptible to heat stroke because you didn’t see it coming.” He looked entirely too smug and pleased with himself by the time he’d finished. 

Phil couldn’t help but just roll his eyes at that point. “Dan, it’s fifteen degrees.” He deadpanned. 

“We’re British.” Dan continued, still desperate to defend himself for god knows what reason. He’d definitely lost track of it along the way, finding himself much more concerned with the way Phil smiled at him, and the way the light met his eyes, seeming to refract and glimmer with a million different shades of blue and green.

“Yes, Dan.” Phil told him, his voice even going as far as to take on a patronising tone, but he did reckon that the situation called for it. “We’re  _ British _ , not Antartican.”

“Oh shut up.” Dan rolled his eyes, letting out a groan, and deciding that he’d firmly given up on whatever kind of mess they’d gotten into there. He moved closer to Phil, resting his head against his chest, and like that, they fell into perhaps the most peaceful and comforting of all silences.

The silence, like all silences, however, eventually came to an end, as Susan finally decided to make a move on the flowerbed, almost seeming to leap at a plant with all the passion in the world.

“Susan!” Phil shrieked, sitting up almost instantly, taking a moment to compose himself before stumbling to his feet and rushing across the garden to retrieve Susan from the flowerbed before any geraniums sustained any kind of permanent injury.

Dan sat up, letting out a small bout of laughter as he watched Susan reluctantly scurry back across the garden, nestling herself amongst the grass, and curling up in a patch of shade. Phil took a moment just to shade and roll his eyes at her before he hurried back over to Dan.

“You’re adorable, honestly.” The words left Dan’s lips before he’d had much of an opportunity to think about them, leaving him notably by surprise. 

Phil couldn’t help but blush: pale cheeks turning a vibrant shade of vermillion. “So are you.” He insisted, grinning across at Dan, not giving Dan enough of a chance to respond before leaning over and kissing him, softly at first, as little more than a brush of their lips, but found that it quickly developed into something more.

Dan moved closer to him, reaching his arms around Phil’s back in an attempt to keep their bodies in contact as much as they could. Feeling an unbelievable kind of warming feeling radiate through his chest as he moved one of his hands up to Phil’s neck, running a few strands of black hair between his fingers, and somehow holding the entire world in his hands.

“You’re beautiful.” Dan corrected himself as he finally pulled away, meeting Phil’s eyes with an unmatchable kind of honesty, akin to just laying his entire soul out on a pedestal for everyone to see. “The most beautiful person in the world, honestly.”

“Shut up.” Phil rolled his eyes, doing his best to mask the evident blush growing across his face, and kissed Dan again.

-

“So, who was that?” Her voice was calm, perhaps even surprisingly composed considering the subject, meeting Phil with a long, intentful stare from across the kitchen.

Phil turned away frantically, watching through the open door to the dining room, and listening for the sounds of doors closing elsewhere in the house, accompanied by the steady thumping of footsteps making their way up the stairs. It was only when he found himself entirely content with the fact that they were alone, that he pushed the door closed and turned back to face his mother.

Instantly, he noticed the way her stare grew more intense, something more seeming to burn away behind the glassy exterior. Phil couldn’t help but let that bother him just that little bit, as he stood there, face blank as possible, as he did his best to connect the dots, hoping to create any sort of picture that didn’t display just exactly what he thought she might have been getting at here.

“Who?” Phil asked, his voice tentative, nervous even, and really, he just couldn’t help but dread what could be to come, despite the relatively pleasant tone of everything.

“Today.” She told him, her voice rather plain and simple, perhaps as if she was focusing entirely too hard upon ensuring that her words came out pleasantly. “You know…?” She gestured almost aimlessly in the air, watching as Phil came to rather definitely conclude the nature of just what she had been getting at with this.

“Dan.” Phil finished for her, his voice coming out harsher than he had intended it to. His mother eyed him carefully for a good minute or so after that, but the silence was never unpleasant, in fact, Phil seemed to find a decent amount of calm in it.

“Yeah.” She nodded, stopping for a moment and pulling her lips up into a smile. Phil watched for a while as she wandered around the kitchen, putting away the leftovers from dinner and making some sort of start on the washing up; it was hardly much of a great effort, constituting only of turning the tap on, and just staring at the water running into the sink for a moment.

“Dan.” She echoed, looking up and meeting Phil’s eyes once more. There was a certain degree more of tension to their conversation this time around, and as much as Phil would have liked to avoid it, he found it overwhelming almost, and down right determined not to leave him alone. “Tell me about him.” She continued, turning back to the sink and beginning to wash a plate, perhaps just for something to do with her hands really.

“Uhh…” Phil began, his heart dropping right through his chest, down into the pit of his stomach. “He’s… uhh… nice.”

‘Uhh… nice?” She repeated, grinning a little, finding some amusement in the fact that Phil suddenly had so little to say for the boy he’d seemed entirely ecstatic about. “For a start…” She began, concluding that Phil wasn’t going to give her much to go on without some kind of prompt. “What’s his last name?”

“Howell. Dan Howell.” Phil finished, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, struggling to figure out just what it was that was supposed to come of this conversation. “He’s… uhh… sixteen, and he’s… he… takes art and he’s  _ so  _ talented. It’s unfair.” Phil couldn’t help the way that the corner of his lips had twitched up into a smile.

She stifled a laugh in return. “Is he?” From the plain, almost artificial tone in her voice, Phil could tell that this really what she wanted to get at here; there was something else, something beneath everything else that was really the matter.

“Yeah.” Phil swallowed hard, unable to stop his tone growing just that little bit sour. “Mum…” He let out a sigh, holding her gaze for just a moment. “What is it? What do you  _ actually _ want to know? Come on, I… I can tell.”

She let out a sigh, switching the tap off and drying her hands, before turning to properly face her son. They remained like that for just a few minutes: a less than pleasant kind of silence, but definitely not one that seemed to drag. If Phil could have done anything, he would have savoured it.

“He… who is he? To you, I mean.” She bit her lip, evidently skirting awkwardly around something here; Phil couldn’t avoid that as much as she really couldn’t avoid the truth of the matter that was on her mind. “Dan.” She clarified, as if there was really any need for it. “Because… I… you know… I saw the two you… together earlier, and it’s…  _ fine _ . I’m just- I do just wish you’d talk to me about these things, Phil.” 

“I…” Phil stammered, finding that suddenly it was just entirely too much to take in at that moment. “Uhh… I… sorry.”

“And you let Susan out into the garden  _ again _ .” She continued, leaving Phil just a little taken aback by how quickly she’d managed to glaze over the subject. Suddenly he found that he maybe he did want to talk about it more than he’d let on; he wondered if that had been her idea all along.

“I didn’t let her hurt  _ any _ of your plants.” Phil insisted, watching the way his mother’s lips parted again, as if ready to spew out something that just seemed so impossibly unimportant in the scheme of everything. He found that he was almost unconscious of the way he’d stopped her. “I promise. Look… mum… I… Dan’s my boyfriend… okay?” Phil felt as if all the oxygen had left his body the very minute the words had. “I didn’t let him hurt any of your plants either.”

She broke into a smile, her eyes, however, seemed awfully close to tears. Phil couldn’t help but feel immensely bad, and sought to fix it, even if he really wasn’t at all sure as to how he might accomplish that.

“Don’t cry. Your plants are fine, I promise!” Phil exclaimed, unable to stop a horrible kind of anxiety cutting right into him.

“I don’t  _ care _ about the plants, Phil.” She let out a sigh, giving him very little warning before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. “They’re nowhere near as important as you are to me. Come on, you know that. Look, is he treating you right, does he make you happy? That’s what matters.”

Phil did struggle to breathe for a good few minutes after she’d released her grip on him, but managed to compose himself in the end. “Yeah. He does.” He felt his lips curling up into a smile, even as he did his best to fight it. “I love him.” He told her, more serious than he’d ever been. “Properly. I think.”

“ _ God _ .” She let out a breathy kind of sob and pulled him back against her chest.

“Please don’t cry, mum, I-” Phil did his best to comfort her, but she made it very clear that she just wasn’t having any of it.

“These are good tears.” She assured him, taking a moment just to breathe and calm herself down before continuing. “I’m happy for you. If you’re happy then that’s all that matters. You two look good together, and you know, I’d love to meet him.  _ Properly _ .”

“What? So you can embarrass me?” Phil raised his eyebrows, immediately hesitant. “Get out all the baby photos and everything like that?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t help but burst into a grin. “ _ Exactly _ .”

It was then that Phil knew that this was real. Not just in his mind, but in his heart too, because despite the almost menacing glint in his mother’s eyes, he found that he just didn’t mind at all. What he had with Dan had made itself clear that it was just so much more than to let himself get embarrassed over baby photos and childhood stories with.

And it was then that Phil really discovered just what it was like to  _ really _ be in love.

-


End file.
